Harry Potter and the Heir to the Ministry
by Jacen Caedus
Summary: The fledgling Wizards' Council defends itself against the attacks of a mysterious warlord. Based on Timothy Zahn's Thrawn Trilogy.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I am not George Lucas or J.K. Rowling**

HARRY POTTER

HEIR TO THE MINISTRY

Five years have passed since the  
climatic Battle of the Forbidden  
Forest. The DA have destroyed  
the Dark Mark, defeated Severus  
Snape and his Dark Lord  
Voldemort, and driven out the old  
Ministry Starfleet to a distant  
corner of the galaxy.

Princess Hermione and Ron  
Weasley are married and  
expecting twins. Harry Potter has  
become the first in a long-  
awaited new line of Auror  
Knights.

Thousands of light years away,  
Grand Admiral Grindelwald, the  
last of the Dark Lord's warlords,  
has taken command of the  
shattered Ministry Fleet, readied  
it for war, and pointed it at the  
fragile heart of the Wizards'  
Council. . . .


	2. Dramatis Personae

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling or Timothy Zahn.**

Here are the characters in this story:

 **Luke Skywalker - Harry Potter (age 28), Auror Knight**

 **Han Solo - Ron Weasley (age 38), Captain of the _Ford Anglia_**

 **Leia Organa Solo - Hermione Granger Weasley (age 28), Senator of Scotland**

 **Mara Jade - Ginny Weasley (age 26), smuggler**

 **Lando Calrissian - Dean Thomas (age 40), entrepreneur**

 **C-3PO (Threepio) - W-PRC (Percy) (age 43), prefect droid**

 **R2-D2 (Artoo) - HD-WG (Hedwig) (age 42), messenger droid**

 **Chewbacca - Rubeus Hagrid (age 209), co-pilot of the _Ford Anglia_**

 **Wedge Antilles - Neville Longbottom (age 30), Rogue Leader, Army Commander**

 **Gilad Pellaeon - Tiberius Ogden (age 60), Ministry Captain of _Nurmengard_**

 **Winter - Parvati (age 29), handmaiden and Council agent**

 **Mitth'raw'nuruodo (Thrawn) - Gellert Grindelwald (age 62), Ministry Grand Admiral**

 **Talon Karrde - Aberforth Dumbledore (age 44), smuggler chief, captain of the _Hog's Head_**

 **Joruus C'Baoth - Bartemiuus Crouch (age 32), Dark wizard**

 **Mon Mothma - Millicent Bagnold (age 57), Minister for Magic**

 **Borsk Fey'lya - Rufus Scrimgeour (age 40), Senator of Dartmoor**

 **Zakarisz Ghent - Lorcan Lovegood (age 20), slicer**

 **Aves - Anthony Goldstein (age 28), smuggler**

 **Rukh - Sanguini (age 31), Ministry guard**

 **Khabarakh clan Kihm'bar - Amarillo clan Lestoat (age 29), Ministry commando**

 **Gial Ackbar - Admiral Murcus (age 53), Council Supreme Commander, Senator of the Black Lake**

 **Fynn Torve - Ritchie Coote (age 37), member of the Slug Club**

 **Sturm - MacBoon (age unknown), Quintaped**

 **Drang - Quintius (age unknown), Quintaped**

 **Cris Pieterson - Lucian Bole (age 30), Ministry officer**

 **Dravis - Cormac McLaggen (age 38), smuggler**

 **Afyon - Arnold Peasegood (age 53), Council Captain**

 **Brandei - Mortlake (age 51), Ministry Captain**

 **Brasck - Hodrod (age 34), smuggler chief**

 **Chin - Borgin (age 40), smuggler**

 **Colclazure - Ensign Avery (age 45), Ministry Ensign**

 **Cyru - Basil (age 37), security guard**

 **Dankin - Alderton (age 37), smuggler**

 **Harbid - Terence Higgs (age 34), Ministry Captain (mention only)**

 **Kampl - Bob (age 36), security guard**

 **Lachton - Zonko (age 35), smuggler**

 **Par'tah - Carlotta Pinkstone (age 43), smuggler chief (mention only)**

 **Ralrracheen - Grawp (age 200), Ambassador of Minsk**

 **The Reverend - The Bloody Baron (age 45), information broker**

 **Salporin - Fang (age 209), retired veteran**

 **Judder Page - Jimmy Peakes (age 32), Army Lieutenant**

 **Palpatine - Dark Lord Voldemort (deceased), Dark Lord of the Death Eaters, Dark Lord of the New Ministry**

 **Tschel - Peregrine Derrick (age 31), Ministry Lieutenant**

 **Wadewarn - Stebbins (age 51), smuggler**

 **Anakin Skywalker / Darth Vader - James Potter / Severus Snape (deceased), Auror Knight and former Death Eater (mention only)**

 **Yoda - Albus (deceased), Head Auror and General (mention only)**

 **Obi-Wan Kenobi - Sirius Black (deceased), Auror Master and General**

 **Jabba Desilijic Tiure - Golgomath the Giant (deceased), crime lord (mention only)**

 **Jacen Solo - Albus (Potter) Weasley (unborn), son of Ron and Hermione Weasley**

 **Jaina Solo - Rose Weasley (unborn), daughter of Ron and Hermione Weasley**

 **Jorus C'Baoth - Bartemius Crouch (deceased), Auror Master (mention only)**

 **Owen Lars - Vernon Dursley (deceased), moisture farmer (mention only)**

 **Beru Whitsun Lars - Petunia Evans Dursley (deceased), moisture farmer (mention only)**

 **Bail Organa - Charles Granger (deceased), Prince and Viceroy of Scotland (mention only)**

 **Crix Madine - Saul Croaker (age 68), Council General (mention only)**

 **Boba Fett - Draco Malfoy (age 41), bounty hunter (mention only)**

 ** _Planets:_**

 **Tatooine - Surrey**

 **Death Star - Dark Mark (mention only)**

 **Endor - Forbidden Forest (mention only)**

 **Abregado-rae - Norfolk**

 **Coruscant (Imperial Palace) - London (Ministry Headquarters)**

 **Alderaan - Scotland (mention only)**

 **Bespin (Cloud City) - Newham (West Ham) (mention only)**

 **Nkllon (Nomad City) - Cornwall (Tinworth City)**

 **Dagobah - Mould-on-the-Would**

 **Bimmisaari - Nottingham**

 **Boordii - Exmoor (mention only)**

 **Draukyze - Yorkshire (mention only)**

 **Honoghr - Transylvania (mention only)**

 **Hoth - Tibet (mention only)**

 **Jomark - Little Hangleton (mention only)**

 **Kashyyyk - Minsk**

 **Myrkr - Isle of Drear**

 **Obroa-skai - Flourish-Blotts**

 **Bpfassh - Avalon**

 **Praesitlyn - Floo Network (mention only)**

 **Sluis Van - Nimbus**

 **Wayland (Mount Tantiss) - Horcrux (Horcrux Cave)**

 **Yavin - Hogwarts (mention only)**

 _ **Millenium Falcon**_ **-** **_Ford Anglia_**

 ** _Executer - Half-Blood Prince_ (mention only)**

 ** _Chimaera_ \- _Nurmengard_**

 ** _Death's Hand - Greater Good_**

 _ **Species:**_

 **Human - Human**

 **Wookiee - Half-giant**

 **Corellian - Devonian**

 **Bimm - Goblin**

 **Bothan - Gryffindor**

 **Bpfasshi - Slytherin**

 **Chiss - Durmstrang**

 **Elomin - Muggle**

 **Gamorrean - Troll (mention only)**

 **Myneyrsh - Jarvey**

 **Noghri - Vampire**

 **Obroan - Flourish**

 **Mon Calamari - Selkie**

 **Psadan - Imp**

 **Sluissi - Nimbus**

 **Alderaanian - Scottish**

 **Chandrilan - Ravenclaw**

 **Socorron - Half-blood**

 **Ugnaught - Leprechaun (mention only)**

 **Jedi - Auror**

 **Yuzzum - Ogre**

 **Rancor - Hungarian Horntail (mention only)**

 **Vornskr - Quintaped**

 **Klatooinian - Wizard (mention only)**

 **Ysalamir - Hinkypunk**

 **Zygerrian - Manticore (mention only)**


	3. Grand Admiral Grindelwald

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling or Timothy Zahn.**

 _Tiberius Ogden stands at the bridge of the Ministry cruise_ Nurmengard _._

 **Derrik's Voice.** Captain Ogden. Message from the sentry line: the scout brooms have just come out of lightspeed.

 **Ogden.** _[to First Lieutenant]_ Trace this line for me.

 _The lieutenant frowns at Ogden._

 **First Lieutenant.** Sir . . . ?

 **Ogden.** I heard him. You have an order, Lieutenant.

 **First Lieutenant.** Yes, sir.

 _Enter Peregrine Derrik._

 **Derrik.** Captain Ogden.

 _Ogden frowns and turns to face Derrik._

 **Ogden.** This is not a cattle market in Hogsmeade, Lieutenant Derrik. This is the bridge of a Ministry cruiser. Routine information is not - repeat, not - simply shouted in the general direction of its intended recipient. Is that clear?

 **Derrik.** Yes, sir.

 _Ogden holds his gaze for a moment, then nods._

 **Ogden.** Now. Report.

 **Derrik.** Yes, sir. We've just received word from the sentry brooms, sir. The scouts have returned from their scan raid on the Flourish-Blotts region.

 **Ogden.** Very good. Did they have any trouble?

 **Derrik.** Only a little, sir. The natives apparently took exception to them pulling a dump of their central library system. The wing commander said there was some attempt at pursuit, but that he lost them.

 **Ogden.** I hope so. Have the wing commander report to the bridge ready room with his report as soon as the brooms are aboard. And have the sentry line go to yellow alert. Dismissed.

 **Derrik.** Yes, sir.

 _Exit Derrik._

 _[aside]_ In the old days, at the height of the Ministry's power, it would have been inconceivable for a man as young as Derrik to serve as a bridge officer aboard a ship like _Nurmengard_. Now, in contrast, _Nurmengard_ has virtually no one aboard except young men and women. _[angry]_ This is the Dark Lord's fault. I always suspected the first Dark Mark was nothing more than a blatant attempt to bring the Ministry's vast military power more tightly under his direct control, just as he did with the Ministry's political power. The fact that he ignored the battle station's proven vulnerability and gone ahead with a second Dark Mark only confirmed that suspicion. We might have even genuinely mourned its loss . . . if it hadn't, in its death throes, taken the Ministry cruiser _Half-Blood Prince_ with it. I still wince at that memory. The loss of the ship itself was bad enough. But the fact that it was the _Half-Blood Prince_ made it far worse. That particular cruiser was Severus Snape's personal ship, and despite the Death Eater's legendary, and often lethal, capriciousness, serving aboard it has long been perceived as the quick line to promotion . . . which means that when the _Half-Blood Prince_ died, so also did a disproportionate fraction of the best young and midlevel officers. We have never recovered from that fiasco. With the _Half-Blood Prince_ 's leadership gone, the battle quickly turned into a confused rout, with several other Ministry cruisers being lost before the order to withdraw was finally been given. Despite our best efforts, we never regained the initiative against the Army. Instead, we were steadily pushed back . . . until now. No, the end of the Ministry was not yet, as the arrogantly self-proclaimed Wizard's Council will soon discover.

 _Ogden checks his watch._

Grand Admiral Grindelwald will be meditating in his command room now. . . . _[to First Lieutenant]_ Continue tracing those lines. I'll be back shortly."

 _Exit all but Ogden, who approaches Grindelwald's private quarters._

Captain Ogden to see Grand Admiral Grindelwald. I have informa . . .

 _Enter Sanguini, Grindelwald's vampire bodyguard, taking Ogden by surprise._

 **Sanguini.** Captain Ogden.

 **Ogden.** _[startled]_ Blast it, Sanguini. What do you think you're doing?

 **Sanguini.** I'm doing my job. You may enter.

 **Ogden.** Thank you.

 _Ogden enters Grindelwald's private quarters, where surrounded by artwork Gellert Grindelwald sits at the Grand Admiral's chair._

 **Grindelwald.** Come in, Captain. _[gestures toward the art]_ What do you think?

 **Ogden.** It's . . . very interesting, sir.

 **Grindelwald.** All holographic, of course. The sculptures and flats both. Some of them are lost. Many of the others are on regions now occupied by Dumbledore's Army.

 **Ogden.** Yes, sir. I thought you'd want to know, Admiral, that the scouts have returned from the Flourish-Blotts system. The wing commander will be ready for debriefing in a few minutes.

 **Grindelwald.** Were they able to tap into the central library system?

 **Ogden.** They got at least a partial dump. I don't know yet if they were able to complete it. Apparently, there was some attempt at pursuit. The wing commander thinks he lost them, though.

 **Grindelwald.** No. No, I don't believe he has. Particularly not if the pursuers were from the DA.

 **Ogden.** Yes, sir. I've ordered the sentry line onto yellow alert. Shall we go to red?

 **Grindelwald.** Not yet. We should still have a few minutes. Tell me, Captain, do you know anything about art?

 **Ogden.** _[taken aback]_ Ah, not very much. I've never really had much time to devote to it.

 **Grindelwald.** You should make the time. Peverell paintings. Circa 1550 to 2200, Pre-Ministry Date. Note how the style changes right here, at the first contact with Death. Over there are examples of Carathi art. Note the similarities with the early Peverell work, and also the mid-eighteenth-century goblin sculptures.

 **Ogden.** Yes, I see. Admiral, shouldn't we be . . .

 _Enter the Floo image of Derrik._

 **Derrik.** Bridge to Grand Admiral Grindelwald. Sir, we're under attack.

 **Grindelwald.** This is Grindelwald. Go to red alert and tell me what we've got. Calmly, if possible.

 **Derrik.** Yes, sir. Sensors are picking up four Wizards' Council Cleansweeps. Plus at least three wings of Firebolts. Symmetric cloud-vee formation, coming in on our scout brooms' vector.

 _Ogden curses._

 **Ogden.** Run engines to full power. Prepare to make the jump to lightspeed.

 **Grindelwald.** Belay that jump order, Lieutenant. Ministry broom crews to their stations; activate Shield Charms.

 **Ogden.** Admiral . . .

 **Grindelwald.** Come here, Captain. Let's take a look, shall we?

 _Grindelwald activates a miniature bridge monitor, with helm, engine, and weapons readouts on the walls and double display circle._

Fortunately, the scout brooms have enough of a lead not to be in danger themselves. So. Let's see what exactly we're dealing with. Bridge: order the three nearest sentry brooms to attack.

 **Derrik.** Yes, sir.

 _Derrik performs his task._

 **Grindelwald.** Excellent. That will do, Lieutenant. Pull the other two sentry ships back, and order the sector four line to scramble out of the invaders' vector.

 **Derrik.** Yes, sir.

 **Ogden.** _[confused]_ Shouldn't we at least signal the rest of the fleet? The _Greater Good_ could be here in twenty minutes, most of the others in less than an hour.

 **Grindelwald.** The last thing we want to do right now is bring in more of our ships, Captain. After all, there may be survivors, and we wouldn't want Dumbledore's Army learning about us. Would we? _[to Derrik]_ Bridge: I want a twenty-degree port yaw rotation-bring us flat to the invaders' vector, superstructure pointing at them. As soon as they're within the outer perimeter, the sector four sentry line is to re-form behind them and jam all transmissions.

 **Derrik.** Y-yes, sir. Sir . . . ?

 **Grindelwald.** You don't have to understand, Lieutenant. Just obey.

 **Derrik.** Yes, sir.

 **Ogden.** I'm afraid I don't understand, either, Admiral. Turning our superstructure toward them . . .

 **Grindelwald.** Watch and learn, Captain. That's fine, bridge. Stop rotation and hold position here. Drop docking bay Shield Charms, boost power to all others. Ministry broom squadrons: launch when ready. Head directly away from _Nurmengard_ for two kilometers, then sweep around in open cluster formation. Backfire speed, zonal attack pattern.

 **Derrik** **.** Yes, sir.

 **Grindelwald.** _[to Ogden]_ Do you understand now, Captain?

 **Ogden.** I'm afraid not. I see now that the reason you turned the ship was to give the brooms some exit cover, but the rest is nothing but a classic Porskoff Ploy. They're not going to fall for anything that simple.

 **Grindelwald.** On the contrary. Not only will they fall for it, they'll be utterly destroyed by it. Watch, Captain, and learn.

 _The Ministry brooms launch, accelerating away from_ Nurmengard _and then leaning hard into etheric rudders to sweep back around it. The invading brooms spot the attackers and shift vectors._

 **Ogden.** What in the hell are they doing?

 **Grindelwald.** They're trying the only defense they know of against a Porskoff. Or, to be more precise, the only defense they are psychologically capable of attempting. You see, Captain, there's a Muggle commanding that force, and Muggles simply cannot handle the unstructured attack profile of a properly executed Porskoff Ploy.

 **Ogden.** That sentry broom attack a few minutes ago. You were able to tell from that that those were Muggle brooms?

 **Grindelwald.** Learn about art, Captain. When you understand a species' art, you understand that species. _[to Derrick]_ Bridge: bring us to flank speed. Prepare to join the attack.

 _The battle ends in a Ministry victory._

 **Ogden.** Sounds like Flourish-Blotts is a dead end. There is no way we'll be able to spare the manpower that much pacification would cost.

 **Grindelwald.** For now, perhaps. But only for now.

 _Grindelwald fiddles with a datacard absentmindedly._

 **Ogden.** Admiral?

 **Grindelwald.** It's the second piece of the puzzle, Captain, the piece I've been searching for now for over a year. _[to Derrik]_ Bridge, this is Grand Admiral Grindelwald. Signal the _Greater Good_ ; inform Captain Higgs we shall be temporarily leaving the fleet. He's to continue making tactical surveys of the local regions and pulling data dumps wherever possible. Then set course for a region called Isle of Drear. The navicomputer has its location.

 **Derrik** **.** Yes, sir.

 **Grindelwald.** _[to Ogden]_ You seem lost, Captain. I take it you've never heard of the Isle of Drear.

 **Ogden.** _[shakes his head]_ Should I have?

 **Grindelwald.** Probably not. Most of those who have been smugglers, malcontents, and otherwise useless dregs of the galaxy. I ran across an offhand reference to it some seven years ago. What caught my attention was the fact that, although the region had been populated for at least three hundred years, both the Old Ministry and the Aurors of that time had always left it strictly alone. What would you infer from that, Captain?

 **Ogden.** _[shrugs]_ That it's a frontier region, somewhere too far away for anyone to care about.

 **Grindelwald.** Very good, Captain. That was my first assumption, too . . . except that it's not. The Isle of Drear is, in fact, no more than a hundred fifty light-years from here, close to our border with the DA and well within the Old Ministry's boundaries. No, the actual explanation is far more interesting . . . and far more useful.

 **Ogden.** And that explanation became the first piece of this puzzle of yours?

 **Grindelwald.** _[smiles]_ Again, Captain, very good. Yes. the Isle of Drear, or more precisely, one of its indigenous animals, was the first piece. The second is on a region called Horcrux . . . a region for which, thanks to the librarians, I finally have a location.

 **Ogden.** I congratulate you. May I ask just what exactly this puzzle is?

 **Grindelwald.** _[with a cold smile]_ Why the only puzzle worth solving, of course: the complete, total, and utter destruction of Dumbledore's Army.

 _Exit all._


	4. Sirius's Farewell

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling or Timothy Zahn.**

 _Harry Potter sleeps at his quarters at the Ministry of Magic Headquarters, where he dreams of being home, at Surrey._

 _Enter the ghost of Sirius Black._

 **Ghost.** Harry.

 **Harry.** Hello, Sirius. It's been a long time.

 **Ghost.** It has indeed. And I'm afraid that it will be longer still until the next time. I've come to say goodbye, Harry.

 _Harry frowns, uncertain._

No, I'm not a dream. But the distances separating us have become too great for me to appear to you in any other way. Now, even this last path is being closed to me.

 **Harry.** No. You can't leave us, Sirius. We need you.

 **Ghost.** _[smiles]_ You don't need me, Harry. You are an Auror, strong in the Magic. At any rate, the decision is not mine to make. I have lingered too long already, and can no longer postpone my journey from this life to what lies beyond. It is the pattern of all life to move on. You, too, will face this same journey one day. You are strong in the Magic, Harry, and with perseverance and discipline you will grow stronger still. But you must never relax your guard. The Dark Lord is gone, but the dark side is still powerful. Never forget that.

 **Harry** **.** I won't.

 **Ghost.** You will yet face great dangers, Harry. But you will also find new allies, at times and places where you expect them least.

 **Harry.** New allies? Who are they?

 _Sirius's image begins to fade._

 **Ghost.** And now, farewell. I loved you as a son, and as a student, and as a friend. Until we meet again, may the Magic be with you.

 **Harry.** Sirius.

 _Sirius vanishes._

 _[aside]_ Then I am alone. I am the last of the Aurors.

 **Ghost.** Not the last of the old Order, Harry. The first of the new.

 _Exit Sirius._

 _Harry awakes. Clipping his lightwand to his belt, he heads upstairs, studying the landscape of London._

 **Harry.** _[aside]_ I argued strongly against moving the center of the Wizards' Council here to London . . . argued even more strongly against setting up our fledgling government in the old Ministry Headquarters. The symbolism is all wrong, for one thing, particularly for a group which already has a tendency to pay too much attention to symbols.

 _Enter W-PRC (Percy)._

I'm over here, Percy.

 **Percy.** Hello, Master Harry. I'm terribly sorry to disturb you.

 **Harry.** That's all right. I just wanted some fresh air, that's all.

 **Percy.** Are you certain? Though of course I don't mean to pry.

 **Harry.** I'm just a little depressed, I guess. Putting together a real, functioning government is a lot harder than I expected, harder than most of the Council members expected, too. Mostly, I guess I'm missing Sirius tonight.

 **Percy.** He was always very kind to me . . . and also to Hedwig, of course.

 _Harry takes a drink of hot chocolate._

 **Harry.** You have a unique perspective on the universe, Percy.

 **Percy.** I hope I didn't offend you, sir. That was certainly not my intent.

 **Harry.** You didn't offend me. As a matter of fact, you might have just delivered Sirius's last lesson to me.

 **Percy.** I beg your pardon?

 **Harry.** Governments and entire regions are important, Percy. But when you sift everything down, they're all just made up of people.

 **Percy.** Oh.

 **Harry.** In other words, an Auror can't get so caught up in matters of galactic importance that it interferes with his concern for individual people . . . or for individual droids.

 **Percy.** Oh. I see, sir. _[concerned]_ Forgive me, sir. But may I ask what that is that you're drinking?

 **Harry.** This? It's just something Dean taught me how to make a while back.

 **Percy.** _[disapproving]_ Dean?

 **Harry.** Yes, but in spite of such a shady origin, it's really quite good. It's called hot chocolate.

 **Percy.** Oh. I see. Well, then, sir. If you are indeed all right, I expect I should be on my way.

 **Harry.** Sure. By the way, what made you come up here in the first place?

 **Percy.** Princess Hermione sent me, of course. She said you were in some kind of distress.

 **Harry.** _[smiles]_ Show-off.

 **Percy.** I beg your pardon, sir?

 **Harry.** Hermione is showing off her new Auror skills, that's all. Proving that even in the middle of the night she can pick up on my mood.

 **Percy.** She really did seem concerned about you, sir.

 **Harry.** I know. I'm just joking.

 **Percy.** Oh. Shall I tell her you're all right, then?

 **Harry.** Sure. And while you're down there, tell her that she should quit worrying about me and get herself back to sleep. Those bouts of morning sickness she still gets are bad enough when she isn't worn-out tired.

 **Percy.** I'll deliver the message, sir.

 **Harry.** And tell her I love her.

 **Percy.** Yes, sir. Good night, Master Harry.

 **Harry.** Good night, Percy.

 _Exit Percy._

 _[aside]_ This place is strong with the dark side. Albus said that of the cave on Mould-on-the-Would, the cave where I engaged in a duel with a Severus Snape who turned out to be myself. For weeks afterward the memory of the sheer power and presence of the dark side haunted my thoughts. Only recently have I finally realized that Albus's primary reason for the exercise had been to show me how far I still had to go. Still, I often wonder how the cave came to be the way it was. I wonder whether perhaps someone or something strong in the dark side once lived there. . . . as the Dark Lord once lived here. . . . Stop it. Certainly Hermione would never have agreed to come anywhere near this place if she had any doubts herself about it. _[via Sonorus]_ Hermione.

 _Harry breaks the connection, then returns to sleep._

 _Exit all._


	5. Hermione's Concern

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling or Timothy Zahn.**

 _Enter Hermione Granger Weasley, at Ministry Headquarters._

 **Hermione.** _[to unborn Albus and Rose]_ It's all right. It's all right. I'm just worried about your Uncle Harry, that's all.

 _Enter Parvati._

 **Parvati.** Your Highness? Are you all right?

 **Hermione.** _[sighs]_ Come on in, Parvati. How long have you been listening at the door?

 **Parvati.** _[offended]_ I haven't been listening. I saw the light coming from under your door and thought you might need something.

 **Hermione.** I'm fine.

 **Parvati.** Can I get you some more milk, Your Highness? Or some crackers?

 **Hermione.** No, thank you. My stomach isn't really bothering me at the moment. It's . . . well, you know. It's Harry.

 **Parvati.** Same thing that's been bothering him for the past nine weeks?

 **Hermione.** Has it been that long?

 **Parvati.** You've been busy.

 **Hermione.** Tell me about it. I don't know, Parvati. I really don't. He told Percy that he misses Sirius Black, but I can tell that's not all of it.

 **Parvati.** Perhaps it has something to do with your pregnancy. Nine weeks ago would put it just about right.

 **Hermione.** Yes, I know. But that's also about the time Millicent Bagnold and Admiral Murcus were pushing to move the government seat here to London. Also about the time we started getting those reports from the borderlands about some mysterious tactical genius having taken command of the Ministry fleet. Take your pick.

 **Parvati.** I suppose you'll just have to wait until he's ready to talk to you. Perhaps Captain Weasley will be able to draw him out when he returns.

 **Hermione.** _[sighs]_ Maybe. In the meantime, we'd better both get some sleep. We have a busy day tomorrow.

 **Parvati.** _[raises an eyebrow]_ There's another kind?

 **Hermione.** Now, now. You're far too young to become a cynic. I mean it, now. Off to bed with you.

 **Parvati.** You're sure you don't need anything first?

 **Hermione.** I'm sure. Go on, scat.

 **Parvati.** All right. Good night, Your Highness.

 _Exit Parvati._

 **Hermione.** _[to Albus and Rose]_ Good night to you two, too.

 _Hermione lays down and returns to sleep._


	6. McLaggen

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling or Timothy Zahn.**

 _Enter Ron Weasley and Rubeus Hagrid, in the Leaky Cauldron._

 **Hagrid.** Raaarrgghh.

 **Ron.** Don't worry. He'll be here. It's just McLaggen. I don't think he's ever been on time for anything in his whole life.

 _Enter Cormac McLaggen._

 **McLaggen.** Hello, Weasley.

 **Ron.** Well, hello, Cormac. Long time, no see. Have a seat.

 **McLaggen.** Sure. Soon as you and Hagrid both put your hands on the table.

 **Ron.** Oh, come on. You think I'd invite you all the way here just to shoot at you? We're old buddies, remember?

 **McLaggen.** Sure we are. Or at least we used to be. But I hear you've gone respectable.

 **Ron.** _[shrugs]_ Respectable is such a vague word.

 **McLaggen.** Oh, well, then let's be specific. I hear you joined Dumbledore's Army, got made a general, married a former Scottish princess, and got yourself a set of twins on the way.

 **Ron.** Actually, I resigned the general part a few months back.

 **McLaggen.** _[snorts]_ Forgive me. So what's all this about? Some kind of warning?

 **Ron.** _[frowns]_ What do you mean?

 **McLaggen.** Don't play innocent, Weasley. Wizards' Council replaces Ministry, all fine and sweet and dandy. But you know as well as I do that it's all the same to smugglers. So if this is an official invitation to cease and desist our business activities, let me laugh in your face and get out of here.

 **Ron.** It's nothing like that. As a matter of fact, I was hoping to hire you.

 **McLaggen.** What?

 **Ron.** You heard right. We're looking to hire smugglers.

 **McLaggen.** Is this something to do with your fight with the Ministry? Because if it is . . .

 **Ron.** It isn't. There's a whole spiel that goes along with this. But what it boils down to is that the Wizards' Council is short of cargo brooms at the moment, not to mention experienced cargo broom pilots. If you're looking to earn some quick and honest gold, this would be a good time to do it.

 **McLaggen.** Uh-huh. So what's the catch?

 **Ron.** _[shakes his head]_ No catch. We need brooms and pilots to get interstellar trade going again. You've got them. That's all there is to it.

 **McLaggen.** So why work for you and your pittance directly? Why can't we just smuggle the stuff and make more per trip?

 **Ron.** You could do that. But only if your customers had to pay the kind of tariffs that would make hiring smugglers worthwhile. In this case, they won't.

 **McLaggen.** Oh, come on, Weasley. A brand-new government, hard-pressed like mad for gold, and you want me to believe they won't be piling tariffs on top of each other?

 **Ron.** Believe anything you want. Go ahead and try it, too. But when you're convinced, give me a call.

 **McLaggen.** You know, Weasley, I wouldn't have come if I didn't trust you. Well, maybe I was curious, too, to see what scam you were pulling. And I might be willing to believe you on this, at least enough to check it out myself. But I'll tell you right up front that a lot of others in my group won't.

 **Ron.** Why not?

 **McLaggen.** Because you've gone respectable. That's why. Oh, don't give me that hurt look. The simple fact is that you've been out of the business too long to even remember what it's like. Profits are what drives a smuggler, Weasley. Profits and excitement.

 **Ron.** So what are you going to do instead, operate in the Ministry regions?

 **McLaggen.** It pays.

 **Ron.** For now, maybe. But their territory's been shrinking for five years straight, and it's going to keep getting smaller. We're just about evenly gunned now, you know, and our people are more motivated and a lot better trained than theirs.

 **McLaggen.** Maybe. But maybe not. I hear rumors that there's someone new in charge out there, someone who's been giving you a lot of trouble . . . like in the Flourish-Blotts region, for instance? I hear you lost a Muggle task force out there just a little while ago. Awfully sloppy, losing a whole task force like that.

 **Ron.** Just remember that anybody who gives us trouble is going to give you trouble, too. And if you think the Wizards' Council is hungry for gold, think of how hungry the Ministry must be right now.

 **McLaggen.** It's certainly an adventure. _[rises]_ Well, it really was nice seeing you again, Weasley. But I've got to go. Say hello to your princess for me.

 **Ron.** Just give your people our offer, okay?

 **McLaggen.** Oh, I will. Might even be some who will take you up on it. You never can tell.

 **Ron.** _[nods]_ One other thing, McLaggen. Who exactly is the big fish in the pond now that Golgomath is gone?

 **McLaggen.** Well, I guess it's not really a secret. Mind you, there aren't any real official numbers. But if I were betting, I'd put my money on Aberforth Dumbledore.

 **Ron.** _[frowns]_ Where can I find him?

 **McLaggen.** You'd like to know that, wouldn't you? Maybe someday I'll tell you.

 **Ron.** McLaggen . . .

 **McLaggen.** I've got to go. See you around, Hagrid. _[pauses]_ Oh, by the way, you might tell your pal over there that he's got to be the worst excuse for a backup man I've ever seen. Just thought you'd like to know.

 _Exit McLaggen._

 **Hagrid.** Aaaughh.

 **Ron.** Well, what do you expect with Admiral Murcus sitting on the Council? The selkies were death on smugglers even before the war, and everyone knows it. Don't worry. They'll come around. Some of them, anyway. McLaggen can blather all he wants about profit and excitement; but you offer them secure maintenance facilities, no Golgomath-style skimming, and no one shooting at them, and they'll get interested. Come on, let's get going.

 _Ron and Hagrid walk over to their backup man: Neville Longbottom._

I've got a message for you. I'm supposed to tell you that you're the worst excuse for a backup man that McLaggen has ever seen.

 **Neville.** _[grins]_ I thought that was the whole idea.

 **Ron.** Yes, but McLaggen didn't. So where's Peakes, anyway?

 _Enter Jimmy Peakes, a Council commando._

 **Peakes.** Right here, sir.

 **Ron.** You see anything suspicious?

 **Peakes.** _[shakes his head]_ No backup troops, no weapons other than his rifle. This bloke must have genuinely trusted you.

 **Ron.** Yeah. Progress. Let's get going. We're going to be late enough back to London as it is. And I want to swing through the Flourish-Blotts region on the way.

 **Neville.** That missing Muggle task force?

 **Ron.** Yeah. I want to see if they've figured out what happened to it yet. And if we're lucky, maybe get some idea of who did it to them.

 _Exit all._


	7. Ginny's Promotion

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling or Timothy Zahn.**

 _Aberforth Dumbledore sits in his office, at his headquarters on the Isle of Drear. At the table in front of him sits bottles of wine and an extravagant meal._

 _Enter Ginny Weasley._

 **Aberforth.** Ginny.

 **Ginny.** Yes. You asked me to join you for dinner.

 **Aberforth.** Yes. Please come in.

 _Ginny steps into the room._

 **Ginny.** You didn't say what . . . this was all about.

 _Ginny studies Aberforth coolly._

 **Aberforth.** No, it's not what you're thinking. This is a business meal, no more, no less.

 _Enter Quintius, Aberforth's pet Quintaped._

That's right, Quintius, a business meal. Come on, out with you.

 _Quintius glances at Aberforth._

I said out with you. Come on. Your dish has been set up in the kitchen. MacBoon's already there. Chances are he's eaten half your supper by now.

 _Quintius moans._

Don't give me that poor-little-me act. Here-this should cheer you up.

 _Aberforth tosses a slice of meat out of the room._

Now go and enjoy your supper.

 _Exit Quintius._

All right. Where were we?

 **Ginny.** You were telling me this was a business meal. It's certainly the nicest business meal I've had in quite a while.

 **Aberforth.** Well, that's the point, really. I think it's occasionally good for us to remember that being a smuggler doesn't necessarily require one to be a barbarian, too.

 **Ginny.** Ah. And I'm sure most of your people are so very grateful for that reminder.

 **Aberforth.** _[aside]_ So much for the unusual setting and scenario throwing her off balance. I should have known that particular gambit wouldn't work on someone like Ginny. _[to Ginny]_ It does often make for an interesting evening . . . particularly when discussing a promotion.

 **Ginny.** A promotion?

 **Aberforth.** Yes. Yours, to be precise.

 **Ginny.** I've only been with the group for six months, you know.

 **Aberforth.** Five and a half, actually. But time has never been as important to the universe as ability and results. And your ability and results have been quite impressive.

 **Ginny.** _[shrugs]_ I've been lucky.

 **Aberforth.** Luck is certainly part of it. On the other hand, I've found that what most people call luck is often little more than raw talent combined with the ability to make the most of opportunities. Then there's your talent for broom flying, your ability to both give and accept orders, and your ability to adapt to unusual and unexpected situations. All highly useful talents for a smuggler. _[pauses]_ The bottom line, Ginny, is that you're simply too valuable to waste as a backup or even as a line operator. What I'd like to do is to start grooming you toward eventually becoming my second-in-command.

 **Ginny.** What exactly would my new duties consist of?

 **Aberforth.** Traveling with me mostly. Watching me set up new business, meeting with some of our long-term customers so that they can get to know you, that sort of thing. You don't have to answer now. Think about it or talk to some of the others who've been with the organization longer. They'll tell you that I don't lie to my people.

 **Ginny.** So I've heard. But bear in mind that if you give me that kind of authority, I am going to use it. There's some revamping of the whole organizational structure . . .

 _A transmission comes through._

 **Aberforth.** Yes?

 _Enter the Floo image of Anthony Goldstein._

 **Goldstein.** It's Goldstein. I thought you'd like to know we've got company: a Ministry cruiser just made orbit.

 **Aberforth.** Any make on it yet?

 **Goldstein.** They're not exactly broadcasting identification signals these days. The lettering on the side is hard to read at this distance, but Coote's best guess is that it's _Nurmengard_.

 **Aberforth.** Interesting. Grand Admiral Grindelwald himself. Have they made any transmissions?

 **Goldstein.** None that we've picked up. Wait a minute. Looks like . . . Yes, they're launching a broom. Make that two brooms. Projected landing point . . . projected landing point somewhere here in the forest.

 **Aberforth.** Not in any of the cities around the edge?

 **Goldstein.** No, it's definitely the forest. No more than fifty kilometers from here, either.

 **Aberforth.** Still only two brooms?

 **Goldstein.** That's all so far. Should I call an alert?

 **Aberforth.** On the contrary. Let's see if they need any help. Give me a hailing channel.

 **Goldstein.** Okay. You have hailing.

 **Aberforth.** Thank you. _[into transmitter]_ Ministry cruiser _Nurmengard_ , this is Aberforth Dumbledore. May I be of any assistance to you?

 **Goldstein.** No response. You think maybe they didn't want to be noticed?

 **Aberforth.** If you don't want to be noticed, you don't use a Ministry cruiser. No, they're most likely busy running my name through the ship's records. Be interesting to see some day just what they have on me . . . if anything. _[into transmitter]_ Ministry cruiser _Nurmengard_ , this is . . .

 _Enter the Floo image of Tiberius Ogden._

 **Ogden.** This is Captain Ogden of _Nurmengard_. What is it you want?

 **Aberforth.** Merely to be neighborly. We track two of your brooms coming down and wondered if you or Grand Admiral Grindelwald might require any assistance.

 **Ogden.** Who?

 **Aberforth.** Ah. Of course. I haven't heard of Grand Admiral Grindelwald, either . . . certainly not in connection with _Nurmengard_. Or with some intriguing information raids on several areas in the Flourish-Blotts region, either.

 **Ogden.** You're very well informed, Mr. Dumbledore. One might wonder how a lowly smuggler would come by such information.

 **Aberforth.** My people hear stories and rumors. I take the pieces and put them together, much the same way your own intelligence units operate, I imagine. Incidentally, if your brooms are planning to put down in the forest, you need to warn the crews to be careful. There are several dangerous predator species living here, and the high metal content of the vegetation makes sensor readings unreliable at best.

 **Ogden.** Thank you for the advice. But they won't be staying long.

 **Aberforth.** Ah. Doing a little hunting, are they?

 **Ogden.** Information on Ministry activities is very expensive. I'd have thought a man in your line of work would know that.

 **Aberforth.** Indeed. But occasionally one finds bargains. It's the hinkypunks you're after, isn't it?

 **Ogden.** There are no bargains to be had here, Dumbledore. And expensive can also mean costly.

 **Aberforth.** True. Unless, of course, it's traded for something equally valuable. I presume you're already familiar with the hinkypunks' rather unique characteristics. Otherwise, you wouldn't be here. Can I assume you're also familiar with the somewhat esoteric art of safely getting them off their tree branches?

 **Ogden.** _[suspicious]_ I was under the impression that hinkypunks were no more than fifty centimeters long and not predatory.

 **Aberforth.** I wasn't referring to your safety, Captain. I meant theirs. You can't just pull them off their branches, not without killing them. A hinkypunk in this stage is sessile. Its claws have elongated to the point where they've essentially grown directly into the core of the branch it inhabits.

 **Ogden.** And you, I suppose, know the proper way to do it?

 **Aberforth.** Some of my people do, yes. If you'd like, I could send one of them to rendezvous with your brooms. The technique involved isn't especially difficult, but it really does have to be demonstrated.

 **Ogden.** Of course. And the fee for this esoteric demonstration . . . ?

 **Aberforth.** No fee, Captain. As I said earlier, we're just being neighborly.

 **Ogden.** Your generosity will be remembered. I'll signal my brooms to expect your expert.

 **Aberforth.** He'll be there. Goodbye, Captain.

 _Exit Ogden._

You get all that?

 **Goldstein.** Alderton and Borgin are already warming up one of the Cleansweeps

 **Aberforth.** Good. Have them leave an open transmission. And I'll want to see them as soon as they're back.

 **Goldstein.** Right.

 _Exit Goldstein._

 _Aberforth sits across from Ginny._

 **Aberforth.** Sorry for the interruption.

 **Ginny.** You really not going to charge them for this? They'd certainly make you pay if you wanted something. That's about all the Ministry really cares about these days, gold.

 **Aberforth.** _[shrugs]_ We get to have our people watching them from the moment they set down to the moment they lift off. That seems an adequate fee to me.

 **Ginny.** You don't believe they're here just to pick up hinkypunks, do you?

 **Aberforth.** Not really. At least, not unless there's a use for the things that we don't know about. Coming all the way out here to collect hinkypunks is a bit of an overkill to use against a single Auror.

 **Ginny.** Maybe it's not Potter they're after. Maybe they've found some more Aurors.

 **Aberforth.** Seems unlikely. The Dark Lord supposedly made a clean sweep of them in the early days of his regime. Unless, they've perhaps found Severus Snape.

 **Ginny.** Snape died on the Dark Mark . . . along with the Dark Lord.

 **Aberforth.** That's the story, certainly . . .

 **Ginny.** _[cold]_ He died there.

 **Aberforth.** Of course. Still, if a Grand Admiral thinks he has a good reason to carry hinkypunks aboard his brooms, we might do well to follow his lead.

 **Ginny.** What for?

 **Aberforth.** A simple precaution. Why so vehement?

 **Ginny.** It seems like a waste of time. Grindelwald's probably just jumping at shadows. Anyway, how are you going to keep hinkypunks alive on a ship without transplanting some trees along with them?

 **Aberforth.** I'm sure Grindelwald has some ideas as to the mechanics of it. Alderton and Borgin will know how to poke around for details.

 **Ginny.** Yes. I'm sure they will.

 **Aberforth.** And in the meantime, we still have business to discuss. As I recall, you were going to list some improvements you would make in the organization.

 **Ginny.** Yes. Yes. Well . . .

 _As Ginny speaks, Aberforth listens thoughtfully._

 **Aberforth.** _[aside]_ Someday, I am going to find a way to dig the details of her past out from under the cloak of secrecy she so carefully shrouds it with . . . to find out where she came from and who and what she was . . . and to learn exactly what it was Harry Potter did to make her so desperately hate him.

 _Exit all._


	8. Horcrux

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling or Timothy Zahn.**

 _Aboard a Ministry broom, surrounded by hinkypunks, Ogden, Grindelwald, and Sanguini fly toward the surface of Horcrux._

 **Ogden.** I'm still not convinced this is really necessary. If this Guardian you're expecting was put on Horcrux by the Dark Lord in the first place, then I don't see why we should have any problems with him.

 **Grindelwald.** Call it a precaution, Captain. It's conceivable we could have trouble convincing him of who we are. Or even that we still serve the Ministry. _[to the pilot]_ Go.

 _The Ministry broom begins its descent._

 **Ogden.** We might have had an easier time convincing him with a squad of Hit Wizards along.

 **Grindelwald.** We might also have irritated him. A Dark Auror's pride and sensibilities are not to be taken lightly, Captain. Besides, that's what Sanguini is for. Any close associate of the Dark Lord ought to be familiar with the glorious role the vampires have played over the years.

 **Ogden.** You seem certain, sir, that the Guardian will be a Dark Auror.

 **Grindelwald.** Who else would the Dark Lord have chosen to protect his personal storehouse? A legion of Hit Wizards, perhaps, equipped with walkers and the kind of advanced weaponry and technology you could detect from orbit with your eyes closed?

 **Ogden.** _[grimaces]_ I'm just wondering whether the Dark Lord might have pulled him off Horcrux to help against the Army.

 **Grindelwald.** _[shrugs]_ We'll know soon enough.

 _The Ministry broom lands at Horcrux, near a forbidding cave._

 **Ogden.** _[to the pilot]_ Is that the Horcrux Cave?

 **Pilot.** Yes, sir. The city ought to be visible soon.

 **Ogden.** Right.

 _Ogden retrieves his rifle, as Grindelwald observes the city._

 **Grindelwald.** Interesting. There are at least three styles of architecture out there: human plus two different magical creatures. It's not often you see such diversity in the same region, let alone side by side in the same city. In fact, that palace thing in front of us has itself incorporated elements from all three styles.

 **Ogden.** Yes. Any idea whether those magical creatures are hostile toward strangers?

 **Grindelwald.** Probably. Most magical creatures are. Shall we go?

 _Ogden, Grindelwald, and Sanguini dismount the broom and walk through the deserted city._

 **Ogden.** Shy, aren't they?

 **Grindelwald.** Understandably. Let's see if we can persuade them to be hospitable. _[in megaphone]_ I seek the Guardian of the cave. Who will take me to him?

 _No response._

 **Ogden.** Maybe they don't understand English.

 **Grindelwald.** No, they understand. The humans do, at any rate. Perhaps they need more motivation. _[in megaphone]_ I seek the Guardian of the cave. If no one will take me to him, this entire city will suffer.

 _An arrow flashes toward them from the right. It strikes Grindelwald in the side, barely missing the hinkypunk tube wrapped around his shoulders and back and bounces harmlessly off the body armor hidden beneath the white uniform._

 _[to Sanguini]_ Hold. You have the location?

 **Sanguini.** Yes.

 **Grindelwald.** Good. _[in megaphone]_ One of your people just shot at us. Observe the consequences. _[to Sanguini]_ Now.

 _As the strangers continue to fire on them, Sanguini easily demolishes the building before them._

 _[in megaphone]_ Those are the consequences of defying me. I ask once more: who will take me to the Guardian of the cave?

 _Enter Bartemiuus Crouch, mad clone of Auror Master Bartemius Crouch._

 **Crouch.** I will. You are strangers, strangers from another region.

 **Grindelwald.** Yes, we are. And you?

 **Crouch.** _[to Sanguini]_ You destroyed one of my buildings. There was no need for that.

 **Grindelwald.** We were attacked. Were you its landlord?

 **Crouch.** I rule. All that is here is mine.

 **Grindelwald.** I am Grand Admiral Grindelwald, warlord of the Ministry, servant of the Dark Lord. I seek the Guardian of the cave.

 **Crouch.** I will take you to him.

 **Grindelwald.** _[to Ogden and Sanguini]_ Stay close together. Be alert for a trap.

 _Grindelwald, Ogden, and Sanguini cautiously follow Crouch._

I would have thought the Guardian would be living in the cave.

 **Crouch.** He did once. When I began my rule, the people of Horcrux built this for him. _[to previously unseen guards]_ Leave us.

 _Exit the guards._

Come. The Dark Lord's Guardian awaits you.

 _Crouch leads Grindelwald, Ogden, and Sanguini to a crypt._

 **Grindelwald.** I see. So he is dead.

 **Crouch.** He is dead. Do you see all the candles, Grand Admiral Grindelwald?

 **Grindelwald.** I see them. The people must have honored him greatly.

 **Crouch.** Honored him? Hardly. Those candles mark the graves of foreigners who have come here since his death.

 _Ogden draws his rifle._

 **Ogden.** How did they die?

 **Crouch.** I killed them, of course, just as I killed the Guardian . . . just as I now kill you.

 _Crouch tries to perform the Cruciatus Curse, but it is deflected by the hinkypunks._

 **Grindelwald.** As you can see, Guardian, we are not ordinary offworlders.

 **Crouch.** The Guardian is dead.

 _Crouch performs the Cruciatus Curse again, but it is again deflected._

 **Grindelwald.** Yes, the old Guardian is dead. You are the Guardian now. It is you who protects the Dark Lord's cave.

 **Crouch.** I serve no Dark Lord. My power is for myself alone.

 _Crouch performs the Cruciatus Curse, but it is once more deflected._

You are not Aurors. How do you do this?

 **Grindelwald.** Join us and learn.

 **Crouch.** I am an Auror Master. I join no one.

 **Grindelwald.** I see. In that case, permit us to join you . . . and permit us to show you how you can have more power than you've ever imagined, all the power even an Auror Master could desire.

 **Crouch.** Very well. Come. We will talk.

 **Grindelwald.** Thank you. May I ask who we have the honor of addressing?

 **Crouch.** Of course. I am the Auror Master Bartemiuus Crouch.

 **Ogden.** Bartemius Crouch? But . . .

 _Crouch glares at Ogden, who falls silent._

 **Crouch.** _[to Grindelwald]_ Come. We will talk.

 _Crouch leads them through the city, where they are watched by a human male._

You destroyed his home, doubtless he would like to exact vengeance.

 _The man fires a crossbow, but Crouch stops the bolt in midair._

They are our guests. They will be treated accordingly.

 _The guard turns to leave, still angry. Grindelwald motions for Sanguini to attack, but Crouch prevents the vampire from doing anything._

 **Grindelwald.** _[angry]_ Crouch . . .

 **Crouch.** These are my people, Grand Admiral Grindelwald. Not yours, mine. If there is punishment to be dealt out, I will do it.

 **Grindelwald.** Of course, Mr. Crouch. Forgive me.

 **Crouch.** Better. Much better. You will now tell me how it was you defeated my attack.

 **Grindelwald.** Let me first explain our offer. I believe you'll find it . . .

 **Crouch.** _[cold]_ You will now tell me how it was you defeated my attack.

 **Grindelwald.** It's quite simple, actually. _[indicates the hinkypunks]_ These creatures you see on our backs are called hinkypunks. They're sessile tree-dwelling creatures from a distant, third-rate planet, and they have an interesting and possibly unique ability to push back the Magic.

 **Crouch.** What do you mean, push it back?

 **Grindelwald.** They push its presence out away from themselves, much the same way a bubble is created by air pushing outward against water. A single hinkypunk can occasionally create a bubble as large as ten meters across. A whole group of them reinforcing one another can create much larger ones.

 **Crouch.** I've never heard of such a thing. How could such a creature have come about?

 **Grindelwald.** I really don't know. I assume the talent has some survival value, but what that would be I can't imagine. Not that it matters. For the moment, the ability itself is sufficient for my purpose.

 **Crouch.** That purpose being to defeat my power?

 **Grindelwald.** We were expecting to find the Dark Lord's Guardian here. I needed to make certain he would allow us to identify ourselves and explain our mission. Though as it happens, protecting us from the Guardian was really only an extra bonus. I have something far more interesting in mind for our little pets.

 **Crouch.** That being . . . ?

 **Grindelwald.** _[smiles]_ All in good time, Mr. Crouch. And only after we've had a chance to examine the Dark Lord's storehouse in the Horcrux Cave.

 **Crouch.** So the cave is all you really want.

 **Grindelwald.** I need the cave, certainly . . . or rather, what I hope to find within it.

 **Crouch.** And that is . . . ?

 **Grindelwald.** There were rumors, just before the Battle of the Forbidden Forest, that the Dark Lord's researchers had finally developed a genuinely practical Cloak of Invisibility. I want it. Also, another small, almost trivial, bit of technology.

 **Crouch.** And you think to find one of these invisibility cloaks in the cave?

 **Grindelwald.** I expect to find either a working model or at least a complete set of schematics. One of the Dark Lord's purposes in setting up this storehouse was to make sure that interesting and potentially useful technology didn't get lost.

 **Crouch.** That and collecting endless mementos of his glorious conquests. There are rooms and rooms of that sort of cackling self-congratulation.

 **Ogden.** You've been inside the mountain?

 **Crouch.** Of course I've been inside. I killed the Guardian, remember? So. You want the Dark Lord's little toys. And now you know you can just walk into the cave, with or without my help. Why are you still here?

 **Grindelwald.** Because the cave is only part of what I need. I also require the partnership of an Auror Master like yourself.

 **Crouch.** _[smiles]_ Ah, we finally get down to it. This, I take it, is where you offer me all the power even an Auror Master could desire?

 **Grindelwald.** It is indeed. Tell me, Mr. Crouch, are you familiar with the Ministry fleet's disastrous defeat at the Battle of the Forbidden Forest five years ago?

 **Crouch.** I've heard rumors. One of the foreigners who came here spoke about it, though only briefly.

 **Grindelwald.** Then you must have wondered how a few dozen DA brooms could possibly rout a Ministry force that outgunned it by at least ten to one.

 **Crouch.** I didn't spend much time with such wonderings. I assumed that the DA members were simply better warriors.

 **Grindelwald.** In a sense, that's true. The DA did indeed fight better, but not because of any special abilities or training. They fought better than the fleet because the Dark Lord was dead. _[to Ogden]_ You were there, Captain. You must have noticed it: the sudden loss of coordination between crew members and ships, the loss of efficiency and discipline . . . the loss, in short, of that elusive quality we call fighting spirit.

 **Ogden.** There was some confusion, yes. But nothing that can't be explained by the normal stresses of battle.

 **Grindelwald.** Really? The loss of the _Half-Blood Prince_ , the sudden, last-minute Ministry broom incompetence that brought about the destruction of the Dark Mark, the loss of six other Ministry cruisers in engagements that none of them should have had trouble with? All of that nothing but normal battle stress?

 **Ogden.** The Dark Lord was not directing the battle. Not in any way. I was there, Admiral. I know.

 **Grindelwald.** Yes, Captain, you were there. And it's time you gave up your blindfold and faced the truth, no matter how bitter you find it. You had no real fighting spirit of your own anymore. None of you in the Ministry fleet did. It was the Dark Lord's will that drove you, the Dark Lord's mind that provided you with strength and resolve and efficiency. You were as dependent on that presence as if you were all implanted into a combat computer.

 **Ogden.** That's not true. It can't be. We fought on after his death.

 **Grindelwald.** Yes. You fought on . . . like cadets.

 **Crouch.** So is this what you want me for, Grand Admiral Grindelwald? To turn your ships into puppets for you?

 **Grindelwald.** Not at all, Mr. Crouch. My analogy with combat implants was a carefully considered one. The Dark Lord's fatal error was in seeking to control the entire Ministry fleet personally, as completely and constantly as possible. That, over the long run, is what did the damage. My wish is merely to have you enhance the coordination between ships and task forces, and then only at critical times and in carefully selected combat situations.

 **Crouch.** To what end?

 **Grindelwald.** To the end we've already discussed: power.

 **Crouch.** What sort of power?

 **Grindelwald.** The conquering of regions, of course. The final defeat of Dumbledore's Army. The reestablishment of the glory that was once the New Ministry.

 **Crouch.** You don't understand power, Grand Admiral Grindelwald. Conquering regions you'll never even visit again isn't power. Neither is destroying brooms and people and rebellions you haven't looked at face-to-face. This, Grand Admiral Grindelwald, is power. This city, this region, these people. Every human, imp, and Jarvey who live here are mine . . . mine. I teach them. I command them. I punish them. Their lives, and their deaths, are in my hand.

 **Grindelwald.** Which is precisely what I offer you: millions of lives, billions, if you wish. All those lives to do with as you please.

 **Crouch.** It isn't the same. I have no desire to hold distant power over faceless lives.

 **Grindelwald.** You could have just a single city to rule, then, as large or as small as you wish.

 **Crouch.** I rule a city now.

 **Grindelwald.** I need your assistance, Mr. Crouch. Name your price.

 **Crouch.** My price? The price for my service? I'm an Auror Master, Grand Admiral Grindelwald . . . not a mercenary for hire like your vampires. _[to Sanguini]_ Oh, yes, vampire. I know what you and your people are. The Dark Lord's private Death Commandos, killing and dying at the whim of ambitious men like Severus Snape and the Grand Admiral here.

 **Sanguini.** Lord Snape served the Dark Lord and the Ministry, as do we.

 **Crouch.** Perhaps. _[to Grindelwald]_ I have all I want or need, Grand Admiral Grindelwald. You will leave Horcrux now.

 **Grindelwald.** I need your assistance, Mr. Crouch. And I will have it.

 **Crouch.** Or you'll do what? Have your vampires try to kill me? It would almost be amusing to watch. Or perhaps you'll have your brave Ministry captain try to level my city from orbit. Except that you can't risk damaging the mountain, can you?

 **Ogden.** My gunners could destroy this city without even singeing the grass at the Horcrux Cave. If you need a demonstration . . .

 **Grindelwald.** Peace, Captain. So it's the personal, face-to-face sort of power you prefer, Mr. Crouch? Yes, I can certainly understand that. Not that there can be much challenge left in it, not anymore. Of course, that may be the whole idea. I expect that even Auror Masters eventually get too old to be interested in anything except to sit out in the sun.

 **Crouch.** Have a care, Grand Admiral Grindelwald. Or perhaps I'll seek challenge in your destruction.

 **Grindelwald.** That would hardly be a challenge for a man of your skill and power. But then, you probably already have other Aurors here under your command.

 **Crouch.** Other Aurors?

 **Grindelwald.** Of course. Surely it's only fitting that an Auror Master have lesser Aurors serving beneath him, Aurors whom he may teach and command and punish at will.

 **Crouch.** There are no Aurors left. The Dark Lord and Snape hunted them down and destroyed them.

 **Grindelwald.** Not all of them. Two new Aurors have arisen in the past five years: Harry Potter and his sister, Hermione Granger Weasley.

 **Crouch.** And what is that to me?

 **Grindelwald.** I can deliver them to you.

 **Crouch.** Both of them?

 **Grindelwald.** Both of them. Consider what a man of your skill could do with brand-new Aurors. Mold them, change them, re-create them in any image you chose. And with them would come a very special bonus, because Hermione Granger Weasley is pregnant . . . with twins.

 **Crouch.** Auror twins?

 **Grindelwald.** They have the potential or so my sources tell me. Of course, what they ultimately become would be entirely up to you.

 **Crouch.** Very well, Grand Admiral Grindelwald. In return for the Aurors, I will assist your forces. Take me to your ship.

 **Grindelwald.** In time, Mr. Crouch. First we must go into the Dark Lord's cave. This bargain is dependent on whether I find what I'm looking for there.

 **Crouch.** Of course. Let us both hope that you do.

 _Exit all._


	9. Crouch's Secret

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling or Timothy Zahn.**

 _Grand Admiral Grindelwald sits in his quarters aboard the Ministry cruiser_ Nurmengard _._

 _Enter Ogden._

 **Ogden.** A word with you, Admiral?

 **Grindelwald.** Certainly, Captain. Come in. Has there been any update from London?

 **Ogden.** No, sir, not since yesterday's. I can request one, if you'd like.

 **Grindelwald.** Probably unnecessary. It looks like the details of the Nottingham trip have been more or less settled. All we have to do is alert one of the commando groups, team eight, I think, and we'll have our Aurors.

 **Ogden.** Yes, sir. Admiral . . . I have to tell you that I'm not convinced dealing with Crouch is a good idea. To be perfectly honest, I don't think he's entirely sane.

 **Grindelwald.** Of course he's not sane. But then, he's not Bartemius Crouch, either.

 **Ogden.** What?

 **Grindelwald.** Bartemius Crouch is dead. He was one of the six Auror Masters aboard the Old Ministry's Advance Guard project. I don't know if you were highly enough placed back then to have known about it.

 **Ogden.** I heard rumors. Some sort of grand effort to extend the Old Ministry's authority outside the galaxy, as I recall, launched just before the Wizarding Wars broke out. I never heard anything more about it.

 **Grindelwald.** That's because there wasn't anything more to be heard. It was intercepted by a task force outside Old Ministry space and destroyed.

 **Ogden.** How do you know?

 **Grindelwald.** Because I was the force's commander. Even at that early date, the Dark Lord recognized that the Aurors had to be exterminated. Six Auror Masters aboard the same ship was too good an opportunity to pass up.

 **Ogden.** But then . . . ?

 **Grindelwald.** Who is it we've brought aboard _Nurmengard_. I should have thought that obvious. Bartemiuus Crouch, note the telltale mispronunciation of the name Bartemius, is a clone.

 **Ogden.** A clone?

 **Grindelwald.** Certainly. Created from a tissue sample, probably sometime just before the real Crouch's death.

 **Ogden.** Early in the war, in other words. And you deliberately brought this thing aboard my ship?

 **Grindelwald.** Would you rather we have brought back a full-fledged Death Eater? A second Severus Snape, perhaps, with the sort of ambitions and power that might easily lead him to take over your ship? Count your blessings, Captain.

 **Ogden.** At least a Death Eater would have been predictable.

 **Grindelwald.** Crouch is predictable enough. And for those times when he isn't . . . That's what the hinkypunks are for.

 **Ogden.** _[grimaces]_ I still don't like it, Admiral. We can hardly protect the ship from him while at the same time having him coordinate the fleet's attacks.

 **Grindelwald.** There is a degree of risk involved. But risk has always been an inescapable part of warfare. In this case, the potential benefits far outweigh the potential dangers.

 **Ogden.** Yes, sir. You mentioned a message to team eight. Will you be wanting me to transmit that?

 **Grindelwald.** No, I'll handle it myself. Their glorious leader, and all that . . . You know how vampires are. If there's nothing more . . . ?

 **Ogden.** No, sir. I'll be on the bridge if you require me.

 _Ogden turns to leave._

 **Grindelwald.** It will bring us victory, Captain. Quiet your fears and concentrate on that.

 **Ogden.** Yes, sir.

 _Exit Ogden._


	10. Ron's Report

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling or Timothy Zahn.**

 _Ron Weasley stands before the Wizards' Council in London, among them Minister for Magic Millicent Bagnold, Senator Hermione Granger Weasley of Scotland, Admiral Murcus of the Black Lake, and Senator Rufus Scrimgeour of Dartmoor._

 **Murcus.** So once again your smuggler friends refuse to commit themselves. You'll recall that I disagreed with this idea all along.

 **Ron.** It's not a matter of commitment, Admiral. It's a matter that most of them just don't see any real gain in switching from their current activities to straight shipping.

 **Scrimgeour.** Or else it's a lack of trust. Could that be it?

 **Ron.** It's possible.

 **Scrimgeour.** Possible? You said possible, Captain Weasley?

 **Ron.** _[sighs]_ Some of the groups I've talked to don't trust us. They think the offer might be some sort of trap to bring them out into the open.

 **Murcus.** Because of me, of course. Haven't you tired of retaking this same territory, Senator Scrimgeour?

 **Scrimgeour.** I merely seek to clarify the situation in my own mind, Admiral. It's hardly worthwhile for us to continue sending a valuable man like Captain Weasley out on these contact missions if each is predoomed to failure.

 **Ron.** They're not predoomed to failure. The kind of smugglers we're looking for are conservative businesspeople. They don't just jump into something new without thinking it through first. They'll come around.

 **Scrimgeour.** _[shrugs]_ And meanwhile, we expend a great deal of time and effort with nothing to show for it.

 **Ron.** Look, you can't build up any . . .

 _Bagnold calls for silence._

 **Bagnold.** What the smugglers are waiting for is the same thing the rest of the galaxy is waiting for: the formal reestablishment of the principals and law of the Old Ministry. That is our first and primary task, Senators.

 _Ron and Hermione exchange looks._

Captain Weasley. We thank you for your report; and, too, for your efforts. And with the Captain's report, this meeting is adjourned.

 _Exit all but Ron and Hermione._

 **Ron.** So, are we out of here?

 **Hermione.** The sooner, the better. I just have to give these things to Parvati.

 **Ron.** I take it things were going a little rough before they called me in?

 **Hermione.** No more than usual. Scrimgeour and Murcus had one of their polite little dogfights, this one over the fiasco at Flourish-Blotts, that lost Muggle force, with some more of Scrimgeour's veiled suggestions that the job of Supreme Commander is too much for Murcus to handle. And then, of course, Millicent Bagnold . . .

 _Enter Bagnold._

 **Bagnold.** A word with you, Hermione?

 **Hermione.** Yes?

 **Bagnold.** I forgot to ask you earlier if you'd talked to Harry about going with you to Nottingham. Did he agree?

 **Hermione.** Yes. _[to Ron]_ I'm sorry, Ron. I didn't get a chance to tell you. The goblins sent a message yesterday asking that Harry be there with me for the talks.

 **Ron.** They did, huh? They give any reasons?

 **Bagnold.** The goblins are rather hero-oriented. And Harry's part in the Battle of the Forbidden Forest is rather well known.

 **Ron.** Yeah, I'd heard that.

 _Hermione squeezes Ron's hand; he squeezes back._

 **Hermione.** We'd better get going. We still have to collect our droids before we leave.

 **Bagnold.** Have a good trip. And good luck.

 _Exit Bagnold._

 **Ron.** The droids are already on the _Anglia_. Hagrid got them aboard while I came here.

 **Hermione.** I know.

 **Ron.** Right.

 **Hermione.** It will be all right, Ron. You, me, and Harry together again . . . It will be just like old times.

 **Ron.** Sure. _[sighs]_ Sure. Just exactly like old times.

 _Exit all._


	11. Nottingham

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling or Timothy Zahn.**

 _The_ Ford Anglia _lands on the surface of Nottingham._

 **Ron.** Well, here we are: Nottingham, fur and moving plants a specialty.

 **Hermione.** None of that. _[aside]_ Political dealings with beings I'm familiar with are easy for me. Diplomatic missions to regions that are alien to me are something else entirely.

 _Using Legilimency, Harry senses Hermione's worries._

 **Harry.** You'll do fine.

 **Ron.** I wish you two wouldn't do that. It's like listening to half a conversation.

 **Harry.** Sorry. Looks like our reception committee coming. I'll go get Percy ready.

 **Hermione.** We'll be there in a minute.

 _Exit Harry._

You ready, Ron?

 **Ron.** Yeah. Last chance to change your mind, Hagrid.

 **Hagrid.** Rrrarrgghh.

 **Ron.** Oh, come on. You've been fawned over before. Remember that big awards thing back at the Hogwarts base? I didn't hear you complaining then.

 **Hermione.** It's all right, Ron. If he wants to stay aboard with Hedwig and work on the stabilizers, that's fine. The goblins won't be offended.

 **Ron.** _[glances out the window]_ I wasn't worried about offending them. I just thought it'd be nice to have a little extra backup along. Just in case.

 **Hermione.** _[smiles]_ These goblins are a very friendly people. There won't be any trouble.

 **Ron.** I've heard that before.

 _Ron clips his transmitter to his collar._

 **Hermione.** It looks good there. Are you going to put your old general's insignia on your belt now?

 **Ron.** Very funny. With the transmitter here, all I have to do is casually switch it on, and I'll be able to talk to Hagrid without being obvious about it.

 **Hermione.** Ah. It sounds like you've been spending too much time with Lieutenant Peakes and his commandos.

 **Ron.** I've been spending too much time sitting in on Council meetings. After four years of watching political infighting, you learn the occasional value of subtlety. Come on, Hagrid. We'll need you to lock up behind us.

 _Enter Harry and Percy._

 **Harry.** Ready?

 **Hermione.** Ready.

 _Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Percy deboard the_ Ford Anglia _and approach the goblins._

 **First Goblin.** _[in Gobbledegook]_ Greetings to our distinguished visitor, Senator Hermione Granger Weasley. I hope your discussions with the clan elders will be fruitful. And Captain Weasley, I would request that you leave your weapon in your car. Weapons of violence are not permitted within the city. No exceptions.

 **Percy.** He offers greetings to the distinguished visitor, Senator Hermione Granger Weasley, and hopes your discussions with the clan elders will be fruitful. He also requests that Captain Weasley return his weapon to the car.

 **Hermione.** What was that last?

 **Percy.** Captain Weasley must leave his weapon aboard the car. Weapons of violence are not permitted within the city. There are no exceptions.

 **Ron.** _[to Hermione]_ Terrific. You didn't tell me this one was coming.

 **Hermione.** I didn't know this one was coming.

 _Hermione smiles at the goblins._

It doesn't look like we've got any choice.

 **Ron.** Diplomacy.

 _Ron draws his rifle and returns it to the_ Ford Anglia _._

Happy?

 **Hermione.** Aren't I always? Tell them we're ready.

 **Percy.** _[in Gobbledegook]_ We are ready to proceed when you are, sir.

 _As the Wizards' Council delegation follows the goblins, Hagrid seals the_ Ford Anglia _._

 _Hermione frowns at Harry's lightwand._

 **Hermione.** Harry?

 **Harry.** Yes, I know. Maybe they figure it's just part of the proper Auror's outfit.

 **Ron.** Or else their weapons detector doesn't read 'wands. Either way, what they don't know won't hurt them.

 **Hermione.** I hope so.

 _Hermione notices a crowd of goblins watching their progress._

Merlin's beard. Would you look at that crowd?

 **Second Goblin.** _[in Gobbledegook]_ The Council House is just ahead. It is the location of our regional council.

 **Percy.** He says the Council House is just ahead. It's the location of their regional council.

 _Hermione glances at the Nottingham Council House._

 **Hermione.** Percy. Ask what that thing is beside it, that building that looks like a three-level dome with the sides and most of the roof cut away.

 **Percy.** _[in Gobbledegook]_ The Princess desires to know what the building beside the Council House is for?

 **First Goblin.** _[in Gobbledegook]_ It's the city's main marketplace. We prefer the open air whenever possible. Perhaps you can be given a tour before you leave.

 **Percy.** _[in English]_ It's the city's main marketplace. He says they prefer the open air whenever possible.

 **Ron.** That roof probably stretches to cover more of the dome framework when the weather's bad. I've seen that design in a few other places.

 **Percy.** He says that perhaps you can be given a tour of the facility before you leave.

 **Ron.** Sounds great. Wonderful place to pick up souvenirs.

 **Hermione.** Quiet. Or you can wait in the _Anglia_ with Hagrid.

 _Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Percy enter the Nottingham Council House, where the goblin clan elders reside._

 **Third Goblin.** _[in Gobbledegook]_ Greetings to our distinguished visitor, Princess Hermione. However, we must apologize for the fact that the talks cannot begin quite yet. I'm afraid that our chief negotiator has become quite ill just moments ago.

 **Percy.** They add their greetings to those given you at the landing area, Princess Hermione. They apologize, however, for the fact that the talks will not be able to begin quite yet. It appears that their chief negotiator became ill just moments ago.

 **Hermione.** Oh. Please express our sympathies and ask if there's anything we can do to help.

 **Percy.** _[in Gobbledegook]_ Princess Hermione expresses her sympathies and desires to know if there might be anything she could do to help.

 **Third Goblin** **.** _[in Gobbledegook]_ Thank you. However, that will not be necessary. There is no immediate danger, merely an inconvenience.

 **Percy.** _[in English]_ They thank you. But they assure you that will not be necessary. There is no danger to him, merely inconvenience. _[hesitates]_ I really don't think you should inquire further, Your Highness. The complaint appears to be of a rather personal nature.

 **Hermione.** I understand. Well, in that case, I suppose we might as well return to the _Anglia_ until he feels ready to continue.

 **Percy.** _[in Gobbledegook]_ Princess Hermione offers her understanding and suggests that she and her family return to the car.

 **Third Goblin.** _[in Gobbledegook]_ That would be satisfactory, unless if course you desired to conduct a tour of the marketplace while you wait?

 **Percy.** _[in English]_ He offers an alternative, Your Highness: that he would be eager to conduct you on a tour of the marketplace while you wait.

 _Hermione glances at Harry and Ron._

 **Hermione.** Any objections?

 **Third Goblin.** _[in Gobbledegook]_ Perhaps Mr. Potter or Captain Weasley might find something of interest in the Council House's upper chambers. There are relics there dating from the middle era of the Old Ministry.

 **Percy.** He further suggests that Master Harry and Captain Weasley might find something to interest them in the Council House's upper chambers. Apparently, there are relics there dating from the middle era of the Old Ministry.

 **Hermione.** _[aside]_ Are the goblins trying to split us up? _[to the goblins]_ Harry and Ron might like the market, too.

 **Percy.** _[in Gobbledegook]_ Princess Hermione counters that Master Harry and Captain Weasley might enjoy the market as well.

 _Third Goblin shakes his head._

 **Third Goblin.** _[in Gobbledegook]_ I fear they would find it excessively dull.

 **Percy.** _[in English]_ He says they would find it excessively dull. Frankly, if it's anything like marketplaces I've seen . . .

 **Ron.** I like marketplaces. I like 'em a lot.

 **Hermione.** _[to Harry]_ What do you think?

 _Harry studies the goblins._

 **Harry.** I don't see what danger they could be. I don't sense any real duplicity in them, nothing beyond that of normal politics, anyway.

 **Hermione.** _[nods]_ In that case, we accept.

 _Exit Harry._

 _The goblins lead Ron, Hermione, and Percy into the marketplace._

 **Third Goblin.** _[in Gobbledegook]_ The marketplace has been in the same spot for over two centuries, thought not in this exact form, of course. The Council House, in fact, was built here precisely because it was already a common crossroads.

 **Percy.** _[in English]_ The marketplace has been in this same spot for over two hundred years, though not in this exact form, of course. The Council House, in fact, was built here precisely because it was already a common crossroads.

 _Ron observes the marketplace._

 **Ron.** _[to Hermione]_ Hasn't changed much, has it? I've seen many marketplaces in my time, and seldom have they been this crowded.

 **Hermione.** You can see why this place is worth getting into the Wizards' Council.

 **Ron.** I guess so.

 _Enter a vendor who tries to sell metalwork to Ron._

No, thanks. _[to Percy]_ Percy, will you have our host tell him that we're not interested?

 _No response._

Percy?

 _Percy stares off in the crowd, searching._

Hey, Goldenrod. I'm talking to you.

 _Percy turns around._

 **Percy.** I'm terribly sorry, Captain Weasley. But our host seems to have disappeared.

 **Ron.** What do you mean, disappeared? _[looks around]_ How could he just disappear?

 **Hermione.** I've got a bad feeling about this. Let's get back to the Council House.

 **Ron.** Yeah. Come on, Percy. Don't get lost.

 _Enter the vampires, armed with Dungbombs._

We've got trouble.

 _More vampires circle around Hermione, Ron, and Percy._

 **Hermione.** Ron.

 **Ron.** I see them. We're in trouble, sweetheart.

 **Hermione.** Who are they?

 **Ron.** I don't know. I've never seen anything like them before. But they're not kidding around. Those things are called Dungbombs. They shoot a spraynet mist two hundred meters, with enough shockstun juice to take down a good-sized Swedish Shortsnout.

 _The vampires begin herding them away from the marketplace._

They're herding us toward the down ramp. They must be trying to take us without stirring up the crowd.

 **Percy.** We're doomed.

 **Hermione.** What are we going to do?

 **Ron.** Let's see how closely they're paying attention.

 _Ron tries to contact Hagrid, but one of the vampires raises his Dungbomb threateningly._

So much for that idea. I think it's time to pull in the welcome mat. We had better give Harry a shout.

 **Hermione.** He can't help us.

 **Ron.** Why not?

 **Hermione.** _[sighs]_ They've got him, too.


	12. Vampires

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling or Timothy Zahn.**

 _Enter Harry, studying an ancient Old Ministry tapestry._

 **Hermione's Voice.** _[via Sonorus]_ Help.

 _Harry spins around, searching around. He reaches out to Hermione._

 **Harry.** _[via Sonorus]_ What is it?

 _Hermione telepathically sends Harry an image of her and Ron being held hostage by an army of vampires._

Hang on. I'm coming.

 _Harry runs from the chamber._

 _Enter the vampires, armed with Dungbombs._

What do you want?

 _The lead vampire gestures threateningly with his Dungbomb._

You want me to go back in there?

 _The vampire gestures again, and Harry backs away from his lightwand._

All right. No problem.

 _The vampires herds Harry toward another room._

If you'd just tell me what you want, I'm sure we could come to some sort of agreement. I would hope we could at least talk about it. There's no particular reason why any of you has to be hurt.

 _The vampire fingers the trigger of the Dungbomb._

If you have some business with me, I'm willing to talk. You don't need my friends in the marketplace for that.

 _Harry backs away._

Now where?

 _As the vampire gestures with the Dungbomb, Harry telekinetically triggers the switch, causing the vampire to attack several of his own companions._

 _Harry flips back into the room behind him, where he retrieves his lightwand, as the vampires spray Dungbombs at him._

 _[aside]_ This reminds me of my encounter with Draco Malfoy five years ago. Wrapped in the bounty hunter's smart-rope, I escaped only by snapping the cable with a deflected rifle shot. But here there are no rifles to try that trick with. For that matter, I'm not absolutely sure what my lightwand can do directly against the sprays. It will be like trying to cut through a rope that was continually recreating itself . . . or rather like trying to cut seven such ropes.

 _The vampires fire in a way that prevents Harry from getting close enough to attack._

A standard military technique. I guess I'm not dealing with amateurs, then.

 _Harry raises the lightwand to en garde position, risking a quick look around._

 _The vampires charge into the room._

 _Harry telekinetically drops the tapestries on top of them, but the vampires manage to quickly leap out of the way._ _The vampires pin the other tapestries to the wall, preventing Harry from trying the same trick._

 _Harry telekinetically hurls his lightwand at the vampires, managing to cut one of them in half as the blade cut through the fallen tapestry. In a rage, the vampires charge after Harry. Unfortunately, the lightwand soars through and kills every other vampire._

 _Relieved, Harry contacts Hermione telepathically._

 _[via Sonorus]_ Hermione?

 _Miles away, still held hostage alongside Ron and Percy, Hermione receives Harry's message._

 **Hermione.** _[to Ron]_ He's free. He's on his way.

 **Ron.** Great. Great. Let's hope our pals don't find out before he gets here.

 _The vampires advance upon them._

Too late. Here they come.

 **Hermione.** Should I try to take their weapons away from them?

 **Ron.** You'll never get all eleven.

 _Ron glances over at a display of jewelry._

Hermione. That jewelry over there? Grab some of it.

 **Hermione.** _[startled]_ What . . . ?

 **Ron.** Just do it. Grab it and throw it to me.

 _Hermione telekinetically sends the jewelry box toward Ron._

 _The goblin vendor cries after them in a rage._

 **Hermione.** Ron.

 **Ron.** Get ready to duck.

 _An angry crowd of goblins charge after Ron and Hermione, their bodies protecting them from the vampires long enough for Ron to activate his transmitter._

Hagrid.

 _Miles away, in the Council House, Harry senses Ron and Hermione's distress._

 **Harry.** _[aside]_ Unfortunately, I'll never get there in time.

 _Harry eyes the vampires' Dungbombs and summons it to his hand, firing out the window._ _Using his makeshift rope, Harry leaps out the window and lands in the marketplace, just moments before the_ Ford Anglia _flies to the rescue. Hagrid fires the_ Anglia _'s guns on the goblins, who retreat from their attack. Simultaneously, Harry deflects attacks from the vampires. Between Hagrid's firing and Harry's swordplay, the Wizards' Council delegation (Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Percy) manage to leap aboard the_ Anglia _and take off from Nottingham._

 _In the hold of the_ Anglia _, Harry tends to Percy, who has been struck by the vampires' Dungbombs._

 _Enter Hedwig._

 _[to Percy]_ You are a mess.

 **Percy.** I'm sorry, Master Harry. I seem to always be causing you trouble.

 **Harry.** That's not true, and you know it. You've been a great help to all of us over the years. You just have to learn when to duck.

 **Hedwig.** _[in binary]_ Captain Weasley did tell you to duck.

 **Percy.** No, Captain Weasley did not tell me to duck. What he said was, "Get ready to duck." I should think the difference would be apparent even to you.

 **Hedwig.** _[beeps and whistles]_

 **Harry.** Well, let's try this one.

 _Enter Hermione._

 **Hermione.** How is he?

 **Harry.** He'll be all right. He may have to stay like this until we get back to London, though. Ron told me these Dungbombs are used mostly by big-game hunters on out-of-the-way regions, and the spraynet they use is a pretty exotic mixture.

 **Hermione.** Maybe the goblins can suggest something. We'll ask them when we get back down.

 **Harry.** _[frowns]_ We're going back down?

 **Hermione.** We have to, Harry. You know that. This is a diplomatic mission, not a pleasure cruise. It's considered bad form to pull out right after one of your ships has just shot up a major local marketplace.

 **Harry.** I would think the goblins would consider themselves lucky that none of their people got killed in the process, particularly when what happened was at least partly their fault.

 **Hermione.** You can't blame a whole society for the actions of a few individuals, especially not when a single political maverick has simply made a bad decision.

 **Harry.** _[snorts]_ A bad decision? Is that what they're calling it?

 **Hermione.** That's what they're calling it. Apparently, the goblin who led us into the marketplace trap was bribed to take us there. He had no idea what was going to happen, though.

 **Harry.** And I suppose he had no idea what the stuff he gave the chief negotiator would do, either?

 **Hermione.** _[shrugs]_ Actually, there's still no hard evidence that he or anyone else poisoned the negotiator. Though under the circumstances, they're willing to concede that that's a possibility.

 **Harry.** _[sarcastic]_ Generous of them. What does Ron have to say about us putting back down?

 **Hermione.** Ron doesn't have any choice in the matter. This is my mission, not his.

 _Enter Ron._

 **Ron.** That's right. Your mission. But my car.

 **Hermione.** _[shocked]_ You didn't.

 **Ron.** I sure did. We made the jump to lightspeed about two minutes ago. Next stop, London.

 **Hermione.** Ron. I told the goblins we were coming right back down.

 **Ron.** And I told them there'd be a short delay. Like long enough for us to collect a squadron of Firebolts or maybe a selkie cruiser to bring back with us.

 **Hermione.** And what if you've offended them? Do you have any idea how much groundwork went into this mission?

 **Ron.** Yeah, as it happens, I do. I also have a pretty good idea what could happen if our late pals with the Dungbombs brought friends with them.

 **Hermione.** _[anger fades]_ You still shouldn't have left without consulting me first.

 **Ron.** You're right. But I didn't want to take the time. If they did have friends, those friends probably had a ship. _[smiles]_ There wasn't time to discuss it in committee.

 **Hermione.** _[smiles]_ I am not a committee.

 **Harry.** Speaking of our pals, did either of you happen to ask the goblins who or what they were?

 **Hermione.** The goblins didn't know. I've certainly never seen anything like them before.

 **Ron.** We can check the Ministry archives when we get back to London. There will be a record of them somewhere.

 **Hermione.** Unless, they're something the Ministry round out in the Department of Mysteries.

 **Harry.** You think the Ministry was behind this?

 **Hermione.** Who else could it have been? The only question is why.

 **Ron.** Well, whatever the reason, they're going to be disappointed. I'm going back to the pit, see if I can muddle our course a little more. No point in taking chances.

 **Harry.** Hard to imagine Ron Weasley not wanting to take chances.

 **Ron.** Yeah, well, before you get smart, try to remember that the people I'm protecting are you, your sister, your niece, and your nephew. That make any difference?

 **Harry.** _[salutes with an imaginary wand]_ Touché.

 **Ron.** And speaking of that, isn't it about time Hermione had a lightwand of her own?

 **Harry.** _[shrugs]_ I can make her one anytime she's ready. Hermione?

 **Hermione.** _[hesitates]_ I don't know. I've never really felt comfortable with the things. But I suppose I ought to make the effort.

 **Harry.** I think you should. Your talents may lie along a different direction, but you should still learn all the basics. As far as I can tell, nearly all the Aurors of the Old Ministry carried lightwands, even those who were primarily healers or teachers.

 **Hermione.** All right. As soon as my work load lightens up a little.

 **Ron.** Before your work load lightens. I mean that, Hermione. All these wonderful diplomacy skills of yours aren't going to do you or anyone else any good if the Ministry locks you away in an interrogation room somewhere.

 **Hermione.** I suppose you're right. As soon as we get back, I'll tell Minister Bagnold she's just going to have to cut down on my assignments. _[smiles]_ I guess term break's over, Professor.

 **Harry.** _[uncomfortable]_ I guess so.

 **Hermione.** Oh, come on. I'm not that bad a student. Anyway, look on it as good practice. After all, someday you'll have to teach all this to the twins, too.

 **Harry.** I know.

 **Ron.** Good. That's settled, then. I'm heading up. See you later.

 **Hermione.** Goodbye.

 _Exit Ron._

Now . . . _[glances at Percy]_ Let's see what we can do about all this goop.

 _Exit all but Harry._

 **Harry.** _[aside]_ "I took it upon myself," Sirius Black said once about Severus Snape, "to train him as a Auror. I thought that I could instruct him just as well as Albus. I was wrong." The words echo through my mind. What if Sirius's mistake becomes my own?

 _Exit Harry._


	13. Ogden's Idea

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling or Timothy Zahn.**

 _Grand Admiral Grindelwald sits in his quarters, across from Ogden and Crouch._

 **Grindelwald.** All died but the coordinator, then?

 **Ogden.** Yes, sir. We're still not entirely sure what went wrong.

 **Grindelwald.** Instruct Central to give the coordinator a thorough debriefing. What report from Horcrux?

 **Crouch.** Is that it, then? Your vampires have failed, so too bad, and on to more pressing business? You promised me Aurors, Grand Admiral Grindelwald.

 **Grindelwald.** I promised you Aurors. And I will deliver them. _[to Ogden]_ What report from Horcrux?

 **Ogden.** The engineering team has finished its analysis, sir. They report that the invisibility cloak schematics seem complete, but that to actually build one will take some time. It will also be highly expensive, at least for a ship the size of _Nurmengard_.

 **Grindelwald.** Fortunately, they won't have to start with anything nearly this big. _[hands Ogden a datacard]_ Here are the specs for what we'll need at Nimbus.

 **Ogden.** The broom company?

 **Grindelwald.** Yes. Oh, and we're also going to need some advanced mining machines - mole miners, I believe they're informally called. Have Intelligence start a records search. We will need a minimum of forty.

 **Ogden.** Yes, sir. One other thing, sir. The engineers also report that nearly eighty percent of the _Geminio_ canisters we'll need are functional or can be restored to working order with relative ease.

 **Crouch.** _Geminio_ canisters? What are those?

 **Grindelwald.** Just that other little bit of technology I was hoping to find in the cave.

 _Grindelwald throws a warning look in Ogden's direction._

 **Ogden.** _[aside]_ An unnecessary precaution. I've already decided that discussing _Geminio_ canisters with Crouch would not be a smart thing to do.

 **Grindelwald.** So. Eighty percent. That's excellent, Captain. Excellent. How very thoughtful of the Dark Lord to have left such fine equipment for us to rebuild his Ministry with. What about the cave's power and defense systems?

 **Ogden.** Also operational, for the most part. Three of the four reactors have already been brought on line. Some of the more esoteric defenses seem to have decayed, but what's left should defend the storehouse more than adequately.

 **Grindelwald.** Again, excellent. Instruct them to begin bringing the canisters to full operational status. The _Greater Good_ should arrive within two or three days with the extra specialists and two hundred hinkypunks they'll need to get things started. At that point, we'll be ready to begin the operation in earnest . . . beginning with the Nimbus broom company.

 **Ogden.** Yes, sir. And about Potter and his sister?

 **Grindelwald.** We'll use team four next. Transmit a message telling them to withdraw from their current assignment and stand ready for further orders.

 **Ogden.** You want me to transmit the message, sir? Not that I'm questioning the order. But in the past you've usually preferred to contact them yourself.

 **Grindelwald.** Team eight failed me. Sending the message through you will let the others know how displeased I am.

 **Crouch.** And when team four also fails you? They will, you know. Will you be merely displeased with them, too? Or will you admit your professional killing machines simply can't handle an Auror?

 **Grindelwald.** They've never yet met any foe they can't handle, Mr. Crouch. One group or another will succeed. Until then, a few vampires, more or less, won't seriously drain our resources.

 **Ogden.** On the other hand, Admiral, this attempt will have put them on their guard.

 **Crouch.** He's right. You can't fool an Auror twice with the same trick.

 **Grindelwald.** Perhaps. What alternative do you suggest? That we concentrate on his sister and leave him alone?

 **Crouch.** That you concentrate on his sister, yes. I think it best that I deal with the young Auror myself.

 **Grindelwald.** And how would you propose to do that?

 **Crouch.** _[smiles]_ He is an Auror. I am an Auror. If I call, he will come to me.

 **Grindelwald.** I need you with my fleet. Preparations for the assault on the DA's Nimbus broom facilities have already begun. Some of the preliminaries to that assault will require an Auror Master's assistance.

 **Crouch.** My assistance was promised only upon your promise to deliver my Aurors to me. I will have them, Grand Admiral Grindelwald.

 **Grindelwald.** Does an Auror Master go back on his word, then? You knew that obtaining Potter for you might take some time.

 **Crouch.** All the more reason for me to begin now.

 **Ogden.** Why can't we do both?

 _Grindelwald and Crouch glance at Ogden._

 **Grindelwald.** Explain, Captain.

 **Ogden.** We could begin by starting rumors of your presence somewhere, Mr. Crouch. Some sparsely populated region where you might have lived for years without anyone really noticing. Rumors of that sort would be certain to make their way back to the Wizards' Cou . . . to Dumbledore's Army. Particularly with the name Bartemius Crouch attached to them.

 **Crouch.** _[snorts]_ And you think that on the strength of an idle rumor he will rush foolishly to find me?

 **Grindelwald.** Let him be as cautious as he likes. Let him bring half the Army's forces with him, if he chooses. There will be nothing there to connect you to us.

 **Ogden.** And while we find a suitable region and start the rumors into motion, you can remain here to assist with the Nimbus preliminaries. Hopefully, their response to our activities will keep Potter too busy to check out the stories until after the Nimbus part is over.

 **Grindelwald.** And if not, we'll know when he makes his move, and in plenty of time to get you there ahead of him.

 **Crouch.** Hmm. Very well. The plan is sound. I will go to my chambers now, Grand Admiral Grindelwald, and choose a region from which to make my appearance.

 _Exit Crouch._

 **Grindelwald.** Congratulations, Captain. Your idea seems to have caught Mr. Crouch's fancy.

 **Ogden.** I apologize, Admiral, if I spoke out of turn.

 **Grindelwald.** _[smiles]_ You served too long under Lord Snape, Captain. I have no qualms about accepting a useful idea merely because it wasn't my own. My position and ego are not at stake here.

 **Ogden.** Yes, sir. With your permission, Admiral, I'll go prepare those transmissions to the Horcrux and vampire teams.

 **Grindelwald.** At your convenience, Captain. And continue to monitor the preparations for the Nimbus operation. Monitor them closely, Captain. With the Horcrux Cave and Nimbus both, the long path to victory over Dumbledore's Army will have begun . . . with, or even without, our Auror Master.

 _Exit Ogden._


	14. Wizards' Council

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling or Timothy Zahn.**

 _At the Ministry of Magic Headquarters, Harry and Ron stands before the Wizards' Council, led by Minister for Magic Millicent Bagnold._

 **Scrimgeour.** Let me get this straight, then, Captain Weasley. You, alone, and without consultation with anyone in official authority, made the decision to cancel the Nottingham mission.

 **Ron.** I've already said that. I've also stated my reasons for doing so.

 **Murcus.** Which, in my opinion, were good and proper ones. Captain Weasley's duty at that point was abundantly clear: to protect the ambassador in his charge and to return safely to alert us.

 **Scrimgeour.** Alert us to what? Forgive me, Admiral, but I don't understand what exactly this threat is we're supposedly facing. Whoever these gray-skinned beings were, they clearly weren't considered important enough by the old Wizengamot to even be included in the records. I doubt a race that insignificant is likely to be capable of mounting a major offensive against us.

 **Hermione.** We don't know that that's the reason they aren't in the records. It could simply be an oversight or gap damage.

 **Harry.** Or else a deliberate erasure.

 **Scrimgeour.** And why would the Wizengamot want to erase the records of an entire race's existence?

 **Harry.** I didn't say it was necessarily the Wizengamot's idea. Maybe the creatures themselves destroyed their records.

 **Scrimgeour.** Farfetched. Even if it was possible, why would anyone want to do it?

 **Bagnold.** Perhaps Senator Granger Weasley can answer that. _[to Hermione]_ You were more involved in the informational side of the Wizengamot than I was, Hermione. Would such a manipulation have been possible?

 **Hermione.** I really don't know. I never got all that deeply into the actual mechanics of how the Wizengamot's records were handled. Common wisdom, though, would suggest that it's impossible to create a security system that can't be broken by someone determined enough to do it.

 **Scrimgeour.** That still doesn't answer the question of why these creatures of yours would be that determined.

 **Hermione.** Maybe they saw the Old Ministry's coming demise. They might have erased all references to themselves and their region in hopes the new regime might not notice them.

 **Scrimgeour.** In that case, perhaps a fear of rediscovery was all that motivated this attack, as well. Regardless, I see no reason to make a full-fledged military operation out of this. To reduce our glorious forces to the level of a mere diplomatic entourage is an insult to their courage and their fighting spirit.

 **Murcus.** You can dispense with the speeches, Senator. None of our "glorious forces" are here to be impressed by them.

 **Scrimgeour.** I say only what I feel, Admiral.

 **Hermione.** I wonder if we could get back to the original subject here. I presume it hasn't escaped anyone's notice that, whatever their motivation, the creatures were ready and waiting for us when we reached Nottingham.

 **Murcus.** We're going to need tighter security for these missions, obviously. At both ends, your attackers did suborn a local goblin politician, after all.

 **Scrimgeour.** All of which will cost that much more time and effort.

 **Bagnold.** It can't be helped. If we don't protect our negotiators, the Wizards' Council will stagnate and wither. _[to Murcus]_ Accordingly, you will detail a force to accompany Senator Granger Weasley on her trip back to Nottingham tomorrow.

 **Ron.** Excuse me. Tomorrow?

 **Bagnold.** Yes, tomorrow. The goblins are still waiting, Captain.

 **Ron.** I know, but . . .

 **Hermione.** What Ron is trying to say is that I had intended at this meeting to ask for a brief leave of absence from my diplomatic duties.

 **Bagnold.** _[frowns]_ I'm afraid that's impossible. There's far too much work to be done.

 **Ron.** We're not talking about a vacation here. Hermione needs more time to concentrate on her Auror training.

 **Bagnold.** _[glances at Scrimgeour and Murcus]_ I'm sorry. I, of all people, recognize the need to add new Aurors to our ranks. But for now there are simply too many urgent demands on our time. In another year, possibly sooner, we'll have enough experienced diplomats for you to devote the bulk of your time to your studies. But right now I'm afraid we need you here.

 **Murcus.** If you'll excuse me, I'll go and have that escort force prepared.

 **Bagnold.** Of course.

 _Exit Murcus._

Unless there's something more, we stand adjourned.

 _Exit all but Harry, Ron, and Hermione._

 **Hermione.** _[to Ron]_ You all right?

 **Ron.** You know, it was a lot easier back when we were just taking on the Ministry. At least then we knew who our enemies were.

 **Hermione.** Come on. Let's go see if they've gotten Percy cleaned up yet.

 _Exit all._


	15. Avalon

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling or Timothy Zahn.**

 _Grindelwald, Ogden, and Crouch stand on the bridge of the Ministry cruiser_ Nurmengard _._

 **First Officer.** All units signal ready, Admiral.

 **Grindelwald.** Excellent. Prepare for lightspeed. _[to Ogden]_ Captain? Is my ship ready?

 **Ogden.** _Nurmengard_ is fully at your command, Admiral.

 **Grindelwald.** Excellent. _[to Crouch]_ Mr. Crouch. Are my other two task forces ready?

 **Crouch.** They are. They await merely my command.

 **Grindelwald.** Then command them.

 _Grindelwald strokes the hinkypunk on his shoulder._

Captain. Begin the count.

 **Ogden.** Yes, sir.

 _Ogden prepares the jump to Apparition._

 **Second Officer.** Speed, point three.

 **Ogden.** Acknowledged.

 _The Ministry cruiser vanishes and reappears near the region of Avalon._

All brooms, launch. _[to First Officer]_ Response?

 **First Officer.** Defending fighters launching from the third moon. Nothing larger visible as yet.

 **Grindelwald.** Get a location on that broom base and detail the _Slytherin_ to move in and destroy it.

 **First Officer.** Yes, sir.

 _The Ministry cruiser_ Slytherin _, flanked by Ministry brooms, moves in on an island off of Avalon._

 **Ogden.** Change course to the farther of the twin regions. Brooms to set up an advance screen. The _Durmstrang_ will take the other planet. _[to Grindelwald]_ Any special orders, Admiral?

 **Grindelwald.** Stay with the program for now, Captain. Our preliminary data appears to have been adequate. You may choose targets at will. Remind your gunners once again that the plan is to hurt and frighten, not obliterate.

 **Ogden.** _[to First Officer]_ Relay that. Have the brooms so reminded, as well.

 _As the attack proceeds, Grindelwald turns to glance at Crouch._

 **Grindelwald.** Mr. Crouch. What's the status of the attacks in the other two regions.

 **Crouch.** They proceed.

 _Ogden turns to glances at Crouch, whose intense concentration has affected his appearance and voice._

 **Ogden.** Are you all right, Mr. Crouch?

 **Grindelwald.** Save your concern, Captain. He's doing what he enjoys most: controlling people.

 **Crouch.** _[laughs]_ I told you once, Grand Admiral Grindelwald, that this is not true power.

 **Grindelwald.** So you've said. Can you tell what sort of resistance they're facing?

 **Crouch.** _[frowns]_ Not precisely. But neither force is in danger. That much I can feel in their minds.

 **Grindelwald.** Good. Then have the _Dark Arts_ break off from the rest of its group and report back to the rendezvous to await us.

 **Ogden.** Sir . . . ?

 _Grindelwald glares at Ogden._

 **Grindelwald.** Attend to your duties, Captain.

 **Ogden.** _[with realization]_ Yes, Admiral.

 _joins the other Ministry cruisers and brooms in the attack on Avalon._

 _[aside]_ It appears the battle is going well . . . remarkably well, in fact. From these charts, it would seem that we are performing forty percent better than usual.

 _Horrified, Ogden glances at Crouch, who is magically guiding the fleet with his powers._

I never really gave much thought to Grindelwald's theory as to how we lost at the Forbidden Forest. Now, suddenly the argument is no longer up to debate. I had never quite understood what gave Crouch the right to add the word _Master_ to his title. Now . . . now I know.

 **Third Officer.** Getting another set of transmissions. A new group of midrange regional cruisers launching.

 **Grindelwald.** Have the _Cruciatus_ move to intercept.

 **Third Officer.** Yes, sir. We've now also pinpointed the location of their distress transmissions, Admiral.

 **Ogden.** Order squadron four to move in and destroy it.

 **Grindelwald.** Belay that. We'll be long gone before any reinforcements can arrive. We might as well let Dumbledore's Army waste its resources rushing useless forces to the rescue. In fact, I believe it's time for us to take our leave. Order brooms back to their ships. All ships to lightspeed as soon as their brooms are aboard.

 _Ogden taps keys at his station, giving_ Nurmengard _'s_ _status a quick prelightspeed check._

 _[to Crouch]_ Order the other two forces to break off their attacks, as well. I presume you are in close enough contact to do that?

 **Crouch.** You question me too much, Grand Admiral Grindelwald . . . far too much.

 **Grindelwald.** I question all that is not yet familiar to me. Call them back to the rendezvous point.

 **Crouch.** As you command.

 _Ogden glances uncomfortably at Crouch._

 **Ogden.** _[aside]_ Testing Crouch's abilities in combat situations is all fine and proper. But there is a thing as pushing things too far.

 **Grindelwald.** _[sensing Ogden's unease]_ He must learn who's in command here.

 **Ogden.** Yes, sir. _[aside]_ As brilliant as Grindelwald is, sometimes I wonder if he realizes the kind of power he awakened on Horcrux.

 **Grindelwald.** Good. Have there been any further leads on those mole miners I asked for?

 **Ogden.** Ah . . . no, sir. At least not in anything like the numbers you want. I think the South West region is still our best bet. Or it will be if we can find a way around the problems of the sunlight intensity there.

 **Grindelwald.** The problems will be minimal. If the jump is done with sufficient accuracy, the _Durmstrang_ will be in direct sunlight for only a few minutes each way. Its hull can certainly handle that much. We'll simply need to take a few days first to shield the viewports and remove external sensors and communications equipment.

 _Ogden nods._

 **Crouch.** Grand Admiral Grindelwald.

 **Grindelwald.** Yes, Mr. Crouch.

 **Crouch.** Where are my Aurors, Grand Admiral Grindelwald? You promised me that your tame vampires would bring me my Aurors.

 _Standing nearby, Sanguini stirs at these words._

 **Grindelwald.** Patience, Mr. Crouch. Their preparations took time, but they're now complete. They await merely the proper time to act.

 **Crouch.** That time had best be soon. I grow tired of waiting.

 _Grindelwald glances at Ogden._

 **Grindelwald.** As do we all.

 _Exit all._


	16. Promises

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling or Timothy Zahn.**

 _Aberforth and Ginny sit in the cockpit of the_ Hog's Head _at the Avalon region, watching the Ministry attack. The ship is copiloted by another smuggler, Zonko. As she watches the battle progress, Ginny notices the Ministry fleet begin to fade away._

 **Ginny.** They're leaving.

 **Aberforth.** What? Already?

 **Ginny.** Already. One of the Ministry cruisers just went to lightspeed. The others are breaking off and starting prelightspeed maneuvering.

 **Aberforth.** Interesting. A hit-and-fade attack, and with Ministry cruisers yet. Not something you see every day.

 **Zonko.** I heard about something like that happening over at the Yorkshire region a couple of months back. Same kind of hit-and-fade, except there was only one Ministry cruiser on that one.

 **Aberforth.** At a guess, I'd say we're seeing Grand Admiral Grindelwald's influence on Ministry strategy. Strange, though. He seems to be taking an inordinate amount of risk for the potential benefits involved. I wonder what exactly he's up to.

 **Ginny.** _[bitter]_ Whatever it is, it will be something complicated. Grindelwald was never one to do things simply. Even back in the old days when the Ministry was capable of style or subtlety, he stood out above the rest.

 _Aberforth eyes Ginny curiously._

 **Aberforth.** You can't afford to be simple when your territory's shrinking the way the Ministry's has been. You seem to know something about the Grand Admiral.

 **Ginny.** I know something about a lot of things. That's why you're grooming me to be your lieutenant, remember?

 **Aberforth.** Touché.

 _A third Ministry cruiser vanishes into Apparition._

There goes another one.

 **Ginny.** Shouldn't we get moving? That last one will be gone in a minute.

 **Aberforth.** O! We're scratching the delivery. I just thought it might be instructive to watch the battle, as long as we happened to be here at the right time.

 **Ginny.** _[frowns]_ What do you mean, we're scratching the delivery? They're expecting us.

 **Aberforth.** Yes, they are. Unfortunately, as of right now, the whole region is also expecting a small hornet's nest of Wizards' Council ships. Hardly the sort of atmosphere one would like to fly into with a shipload of contraband materials.

 **Ginny.** What makes you think they'll come? They're not going to be in time to do anything.

 **Aberforth.** No, but that's not really the point of such a show. The point is to score domestic political gains by bustling around, presenting a comforting display of force, and otherwise convincing the locals that something like this can never happen again.

 **Zonko.** And promising to help clean up the wreckage.

 **Aberforth.** That goes without saying. Regardless, it's not a situation we really want to fly into. We'll send a transmission from our next stop telling them we'll try to make delivery again in a week.

 **Ginny.** I still don't like it. We promised them we'd do it. We promised.

 **Aberforth.** It's standard procedure. I'm sure they'd prefer late delivery to losing the entire shipment.

 **Ginny.** _[reluctant]_ I suppose so.

 _The final Ministry cruiser vanishes into Apparition._

 _[aside]_ But I have still have my own promise to uphold. Very soon, a party from the Wizards' Council will arrive to clean up this mess. I wonder if Harry Potter just might be among them. . . .

 **Aberforth.** Whenever you're ready, Ginny.

 **Ginny.** _[to Aberforth]_ Yes, sir.

 _Ginny begins the calculations for the jump to lightspeed._

 _[aside]_ Not yet. Not yet. But soon. Very, very soon.

 _Exit the_ Hog's Head _._


	17. Hermione's Training

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling or Timothy Zahn.**

 _In her apartment in London, Hermione practices her lightwand training, as Harry stands nearby. Too slow to deflect a blast from the remote, Hermione is struck._

 **Hermione.** O!

 **Harry.** You're not giving the Magic enough control. You have to . . . Wait a minute.

 _Using his magic, Harry telekinetically puts the remote on pause._

 **Hermione.** I'm giving it all the control I can. I just don't have the proper techniques down yet. Or else I just wasn't cut out for this sort of fighting.

 **Harry.** You can learn it. I learned it, and I never had any of that self-defense training you got when you were growing up in Scotland.

 **Hermione.** Maybe that's the problem. Maybe all those old fighting reflexes are getting in my way

 **Harry.** I suppose that's possible. In that case, the sooner you start unlearning them, the better. Now: ready . . .

 _The door buzzes._

 **Hermione.** It's Ron.

 _Hermione deactivates her lightwand._

Come in.

 _Enter Ron._

 **Ron.** Hello. How's the lesson going?

 **Harry.** Not bad.

 **Hermione.** Don't ask. What's wrong?

 **Ron.** The Ministry. They just pulled a three-prong hit-and-fade on three regions in the Nimbus region. Some place called Avalon and two unpronounceable ones.

 **Harry.** Three at once. Getting pretty bold, aren't they?

 **Hermione.** That seems par for them these days. They're up to something, Ron. I can feel it. Something big, something dangerous. But I can't for the life of me figure out what it could be.

 **Ron.** Yeah, Murcus has been saying the same thing. Problem is he's got nothing to back it up. Except for the style and tactics, this is all pretty much the same rear-guard harassment the Ministry's been pulling for probably the last year and a half.

 **Hermione.** I know. But don't sell Murcus short. He's got good military instincts. No matter what certain other people say.

 **Ron.** Hey, sweetheart, I'm on your side. Remember?

 **Hermione.** _[smiles]_ Sorry. How bad was the damage?

 **Ron.** _[shrugs]_ Not nearly as bad as it could have been. Especially considering that they hit each place with four Ministry cruisers. But all three regions are pretty shook up.

 **Hermione.** I can imagine. Let me guess: Millicent Bagnold wants me to go out there and assure them that the Wizards' Council really is able and willing to protect them.

 **Ron.** How did you guess? Hagrid's getting the _Anglia_ prepped now.

 **Harry.** You're not going alone, are you? After Nottingham . . .

 **Ron.** Oh, don't worry. We're not going to be sitting ducks this time. There's a twenty-ship convoy going out to assess the damage, plus Neville and Rogue Squadron. It will be safe enough.

 **Harry.** That's what we said about Nottingham, too. I'd better come along.

 _Ron glances at Hermione._

 **Ron.** Well, actually . . . you can't.

 **Harry.** _[frowns]_ Why not?

 **Hermione.** Because the Slytherins don't like Aurors.

 **Ron.** The story is that some of their Aurors went bad during the Wizarding Wars and really mangled things before they were stopped . . . or so Millicent Bagnold says.

 **Hermione.** She's right. We were still getting echoes of the whole fiasco in the Wizengamot when I was serving there. It wasn't just Avalon, either. Some of those Dark wizards escaped and made trouble all throughout the Nimbus region. One of them even got as far as Mould-on-the-Would before he was caught.

 **Harry.** Mould-on-the-Would? When was that?

 **Hermione.** Thirty . . . thirty-five years ago. Why?

 _Harry shakes his head._

 **Harry.** No reason.

 **Ron.** Come on. We can discuss history later. The sooner we get going, the sooner we can get this over with.

 **Hermione.** Right. I'll get my travel bag and give Parvati some instructions. Meet you at the ship.

 _Exit Hermione._

 **Harry.** I don't like it.

 **Ron.** Don't worry. She'll be safe. Look, I know how protective you're feeling toward her these days. But she can't always have her big brother standing over her.

 **Harry.** Actually, we've never figured out which of us is older.

 **Ron.** Whatever. The best thing you can do for her right now is what you're already doing. You make her an Auror, and she'll be able to handle anything the Ministry can throw at her.

 **Harry.** I suppose so.

 **Ron.** As long as Hagrid and me are with her, that is. See you when we get back.

 **Harry.** Be careful.

 **Ron.** _[smiles]_ Hey. It's me.

 _Exit Ron._

 **Harry.** _[aside]_ I'm not a teacher.

 _Harry flips the remote back on and activates his lightwand. As an Auror Knight, he is able to effortlessly deflect each and every blast. After twenty minutes, Harry deactivates his lightwand._

 _Removing his transmitter, Harry contacts the spaceport._

This is Potter. I would like my Firebolt prepped for launch in one hour.

 **Fourth Officer's Voice.** Yes, sir. We'll need you to send over your messenger droid first.

 **Harry.** Right. _[aside]_ I've refused to let them wipe the Firebolt's memory every few months, as per standard procedure. The inevitable result was that the Firebolt has effectively molded itself around Hedwig's unique personality, so much so that the relationship is almost up to true droid counterpart level. It makes for excellent operational speed and efficiency. Unfortunately, it also means that none of the maintenance computers can talk to the Firebolt anymore. _[to Fourth Officer]_ I'll have him there in a few minutes.

 **Fourth Officer's Voice.** Yes, sir.

 _Harry breaks off the connection._

 **Harry.** _[aside]_ Why am I doing this, I wonder. Surely, Albus's presence will no longer be around me to talk to. But then, perhaps it will. . . .

 _Exit Harry._


	18. The False Ford Anglia

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling or Timothy Zahn.**

 _Enter Ron, Hermione, and Neville, at the site of the Avalon attack, among the Wizards' Council party._

 **Neville.** As you can see, the place is something of a mess.

 **Hermione.** That's for sure. How many people died in the attack?

 **Neville.** In this region, a few hundred. Not too bad, really.

 **Hermione.** No. A lot of damage, though.

 **Neville.** Yeah. But not nearly as much as there could have been.

 **Ron.** I wonder why.

 **Neville.** So does everyone else. It's been the second most popular question around here these days.

 **Hermione.** What's the first?

 **Ron.** Let me guess. The first is, why did they bother pounding on Avalon in the first place.

 **Neville.** You got it. It's not like they didn't have any better targets to choose from. You've got the Nimbus broom company about thirty light-years away, for starters, a hundred brooms there at any given time, not to mention the docking facilities themselves. Then there's the Floo Network at just under sixty, and four or five major trade centers within a hundred. An extra day of travel each way, tops, at Ministry cruiser cruising speeds. So why Avalon?

 **Hermione.** Nimbus itself is pretty heavily defended. Between our selkie cruisers and the Nimbus's own permanent battle stations, any Ministry leader with a gram of sense would think twice before tackling it. And those other regions are all a lot deeper into Wizards' Council space than Avalon. Maybe they didn't want to push their luck that far.

 **Ron.** While they tested their new transmission system under combat conditions?

 **Neville.** We don't know that they've got a new system. Coordinated simultaneous attacks have been done before.

 **Ron.** No. No, they've got something new. Some kind of booster that lets them punch subspace transmissions through Shield Charms and battle debris.

 **Hermione.** I don't think it's a booster. No one in any of the three regions picked up any transmissions.

 _Noticing her expression, Ron frowns at her._

 **Ron.** You okay?

 **Hermione.** Yes. I was just remembering that when . . . well, when Severus Snape was having us tortured in Newham, Harry knew it was happening from wherever he was at the time. And there were rumors that the Dark Lord and Snape could do that, too.

 **Ron.** Yeah, but they're both dead. Harry said so.

 **Hermione.** I know. But what if the Ministry has found another Dark Auror?

 _Neville, who had gotten ahead of them, turns back._

 **Neville.** You talking about Crouch?

 **Hermione.** What?

 **Neville.** Bartemiuus Crouch. I thought I heard you mention Aurors.

 **Hermione.** I did. Who's Bartemiuus Crouch?

 **Neville.** He was one of the major Auror Masters back in pre-Ministry days, supposed to have disappeared before the Wizarding Wars started. I heard a rumor a couple of days ago that he's surfaced again and set up shop on some minor region named Little Hangleton.

 **Ron.** _[sarcastic]_ Right. And he was just sitting around doing nothing during the war?

 **Neville.** I just report them, General. I don't make them up.

 **Hermione.** We can ask Harry. Maybe he knows something. Are we ready to move on?

 **Neville.** Sure. The broomsticks are over this way.

 _Hermione senses danger in the Magic._

 **Hermione.** Ron, Neville . . . duck.

 _Enter the vampires._

 **Ron.** Cover!

 _Ron, Hermione, and Neville duck out of the way, as the vampires open fire. Neville removes his rifle._

 **Neville.** Sorry. I'm not sure. But I think we've got trouble.

 **Ron.** I think you're right.

 _Ron, his rifle drawn, checks his transmitter._

They've learned. This time they're jamming our communications.

 _Hermione removes her lightwand._

 _Neville fires at the vampires._

 **Neville.** It sounds like you've run into these guys before.

 **Ron.** We've met. We haven't really figured out what they want, though.

 _Hermione starts to activate her lightwand, when she hears the sound of a familiar car._

 **Hermione.** Ron.

 **Ron.** I hear it. Way to go, Hagrid.

 **Neville.** What?

 **Ron.** That whine you hear is the _Anglia_. Hagrid probably discovered they were jamming us and put two and two together. Here he comes.

 _The false_ Ford Anglia _lands between Ron, Hermione, and Neville, and their vampire attackers._

Great. Okay. I'll go first and cover you from the bottom of the ramp. Hermione, you're next. Neville, you bring up the rear. Stay sharp. They may try to flank us.

 **Neville.** Got it. Ready when you are.

 **Ron.** Okay.

 **Hermione.** Wait a minute. There's something wrong.

 **Neville.** Right. We're getting shot at.

 **Hermione.** I'm serious. Something here's not right.

 **Ron.** _[frowns]_ Like what? Come on, Hermione. We can't sit here all day.

 _Hermione reaches into the Magic._

 **Hermione.** It's Hagrid. I can't feel his presence on the car.

 **Neville.** He's probably just too far away. Come on. He's going to get the car shot out from under him if we don't get going.

 **Ron.** Hang on a minute. He's okay for now. All they're using is handguns. Anyway, if things get too hot, he can always use the . . .

 _Ron trails off, glancing back at the false_ Ford Anglia _._

 **Hermione.** The underside rifle. Why isn't he using it?

 **Ron.** Good question. Simple answer: that's not the _Anglia_.

 **Neville.** What?

 **Ron.** It's a fake. I can't believe it. These guys actually dug up another working turquoise 105E car somewhere.

 _Ron and Neville exchange curious looks, given the fact that they tried this same trick_

 **Neville.** Boy, they must really want you bad.

 **Ron.** Yeah, I'm starting to get that impression myself. Got any good ideas?

 **Neville.** I don't suppose running for it qualifies.

 **Hermione.** Not with them sitting out there at the edge of the crater waiting to pick us off.

 **Ron.** Yeah. And as soon as they realize we're not going to just walk into their decoy, it will probably get worse.

 **Hermione.** Is there any way we can at least disable that car? Keep it from taking off and attacking us from above?

 **Ron.** There are lots of ways. The problem is you have to be inside for most of them. The outside shielding isn't great, but it blocks handguns just fine.

 **Hermione.** Will it block a lightwand?

 _Ron frowns at her._

 **Ron.** You're not suggesting . . . ?

 **Hermione.** I don't think we've got any choice. Do we?

 **Ron.** I suppose not. All right. But I'll go.

 **Hermione.** _[shakes her head]_ We all go. We know they want at least one of us alive. Otherwise, they'd just have flown by overhead and blasted us. If we all go together, they won't be able to fire. We'll head straight in as if we're going aboard, then split off to the sides at the last second and take cover behind the ramp. Neville and I can fire up and inside to keep them busy while you take the lightwand and disable them.

 **Ron.** I don't know. I think just Neville and me should go.

 **Hermione.** No, it has to be all of us. That's the only way to guarantee they won't shoot.

 **Ron.** What do you think?

 **Neville.** I think it's the best chance we're going to get. But if we do it, we'd better do it fast.

 **Ron.** Yeah.

 _Ron hands Hermione his rifle._

All right. Give me the lightwand.

 _Hermione hands Ron her lightwand._

Okay. Ready . . . go.

 _Ron ducks out from cover and charges for the car, crouching down as he runs to avoid fire from the vampires. Reaching the car, Ron ducks under the hull._ _As Hermione and Neville arrive at the ramp, they are fired on by the vampires inside the false_ Ford Anglia. _Dropping to the ground, Hermione climbs under the ramp, firing blindly into the hatch. As she and Neville fire, Ron activates the lightwand and begins the sabotage of the car. Once the sabotage is finished, the vampires cease firing and the car begins to smoke._

You like it?

 **Hermione.** That probably depends on whether the car is about to blow up. What did you do?

 _Ron retrieves his rifle and hands the lightwand back to Hermione._

 **Ron.** Cut through the coolant lines to the main drive. That's all their pressurized korfaise gas floating away.

 **Hermione.** I thought coolant gases were dangerous to breathe.

 **Ron.** They are. But korfaise is lighter than air, so we won't have any trouble down here. Inside the car is another matter. I hope.

 **Hermione.** They've stopped shooting.

 **Ron.** You're right. Not just the ones inside the car, either.

 **Hermione.** I wonder what they're up to.

 _A thundering noise sounds, shaking the ground with the shock wave._

What was that?

 **Ron.** That, sweetheart, was the sound of an escape pod being jettisoned. Probably modified for atmospheric maneuvering. Never realized before how loud those things were.

 **Hermione.** They usually take off in vacuum. So, now what?

 **Ron.** Now, we collect our escort and get out of here.

 **Hermione.** Our escort? What esc . . . ?

 _Three Firebolts descend toward Avalon, drawn in by the smoke coming from the_ Anglia _._

You did that deliberately, didn't you?

 **Ron.** Well, sure. Why just disable a car when you can disable it and send up a distress signal at the same time? You know, sometimes I still amaze myself.


	19. Ron's Idea

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling or Timothy Zahn.**

 _Enter Ron, aboard the_ Ford Anglia _, communicating with the Floo image of Admiral Murcus._

 **Murcus.** I can assure you, Captain Weasley, that we are doing everything in our power to find out how this happened.

 **Ron.** That's what you said four days ago. Come on. There can't be all that many people who knew we were coming to Avalon.

 **Murcus.** You might be surprised. Between the Council members, their staffs, the prep crews at the spaceport, and various security and support personnel, there may be up to two hundred people who had direct access to your itinerary. And that doesn't count friends and colleagues any of those two hundred might have mentioned it to. Tracking through all of them is going to take time.

 **Ron.** That's great. May I ask what you suggest we do in the meantime?

 **Murcus.** You have your escort.

 **Ron.** We had them four days ago, too. It didn't do us a lot of good. Commander Longbottom and Rogue Squadron are fine in a space battle, but this kind of stuff isn't exactly their area of expertise. We'd do better with Lieutenant Peakes and some of his commandos.

 **Murcus.** Unfortunately, they're all out on assignment. Under the circumstances, perhaps it would be best if you simply brought Senator Granger Weasley back here where she can be properly protected.

 **Ron.** I'd love to. The question is whether she'll be any safer in London than she is here.

 **Murcus.** I'm not sure I appreciate the tone of that question, Captain.

 **Ron.** I don't much like it either, Admiral. But face it: if the Ministry is getting information out of Headquarters, they might just as easily be able to get their agents in.

 **Murcus.** I think that highly unlikely. The security arrangements I've set up in London are quite capable of handling anything the Ministry might try.

 **Ron.** I'm sure they are, Admiral. I only meant . . .

 **Murcus.** We'll let you know when we have further information, Captain. Until then, do whatever you feel is necessary. London out.

 _Exit Murcus._

 **Ron.** Right. Avalon out, too.

 _Enter Hermione._

 **Hermione.** It's just me. You finished talking with Murcus already?

 **Ron.** It wasn't much of a conversation. I asked what they were doing to find out how our pals with the rifles knew we were coming here, he assured me they were doing everything possible to find out, I managed to step on his toes, and he signed off in a huff. Pretty much like usual with Murcus these days.

 **Hermione.** You do have a way with people, don't you?

 **Ron.** This one's not my fault. All I did was suggest that his security people might not be up to keeping these guys out of Ministry Headquarters. He's the one who overreacted.

 **Hermione.** I know. For all his military genius, Murcus just doesn't have the polish to be a good politician. And with Scrimgeour nipping at his heels . . . He just gets more and more overprotective of his territory.

 **Ron.** Yeah, well, if he's trying to keep Scrimgeour away from the military, he's got the wrong end of the rifle. Half of them are already convinced that Scrimgeour's the guy to listen to.

 **Hermione.** Unfortunately, he often is. Charisma and ambition. Dangerous combination.

 _Ron frowns at Hermione._

 **Ron.** What do you mean, dangerous?

 **Hermione.** Nothing. Sorry. Talking out of turn.

 **Ron.** Hermione. You know something.

 **Hermione.** I don't know anything. It's just a feeling I have, a sense that Scrimgeour has his eye on more than just Murcus's job as supreme commander. But it's just a feeling.

 **Ron.** _[aside]_ Like the feeling she had that the Ministry is up to something big? _[to Hermione]_ Okay. I understand. So, you all done here?

 **Hermione.** As done as I can be. The rebuilding's going to take some time, but the organization for that will have to be handled from London. Convoys of replacement equipment, consultants and maybe extra workers . . . You know the sort of thing.

 **Ron.** Yeah. And I suppose you're anxious to get right back and start the ball rolling.

 **Hermione.** You sound like you're not.

 **Ron.** Well, it's what everyone's going to expect you to do. So maybe we ought to do something else.

 **Hermione.** Such as?

 **Ron.** I don't know. Find somewhere no one would think to look for you, I guess.

 **Hermione.** And then . . . ?

 **Ron.** And then hole up there for a while.

 **Hermione.** You know I can't do that. I have commitments back in London.

 **Ron.** You've got commitments to yourself, too. Not to mention to the twins.

 **Hermione.** That's not fair.

 **Ron.** Isn't it?

 **Hermione.** I can't be out of touch, Ron. I just can't. There's too much happening back there for me to bury myself away.

 **Ron.** Well, if all you need right now is to keep in touch, how about if we go some place that has a diplomatic station? You'd at least be able to get official London news there.

 **Hermione.** And how do we make sure the local ambassador doesn't give us away? _[shakes her head]_ I can't believe I'm talking like this. It's like we're back to being the Army again, not the legitimate government.

 **Ron.** Who says the ambassador has to know? We've got a diplomatic receiver on the _Anglia_. We can tap into the transmission on our own.

 **Hermione.** Only if we can get hold of the station's encrypt scheme. And then plug it into our receiver. That may not be possible.

 **Ron.** We can find a way. At least it would buy Murcus some time to track down the leak.

 **Hermione.** True. I don't know. The Wizards' Council's encrypt codes are nearly impossible to break.

 **Ron.** _[snorts]_ I hate to disillusion you, sweetheart, but there are hackers running around loose who eat government encrypt codes for breakfast. All we have to do is find one of them.

 **Hermione.** And pay him enormous sums of gold?

 **Ron.** Something like that. On the other hand, even hackers occasionally owe other people favors.

 **Hermione.** Oh? I don't suppose you'd know any of them.

 **Ron.** As a matter of fact, I do. Trouble is, if the Ministry has done their homework, they probably know all about it and have someone watching him.

 **Hermione.** Meaning?

 **Ron.** Meaning we're going to have to find someone who's got his own list of slicer contacts. _[into the transmitter]_ Longbottom. This is Weasley. You copy?

 **Neville's Voice.** Right here, General.

 **Ron.** We're leaving Avalon, Neville. That's not official yet. You're in charge of telling the rest of the delegation about it once we're off the ground.

 **Neville's Voice.** I understand. You want me to assign you an escort, or would you rather slip out quietly? I've got a couple of people I'd trust all the way to the end of the galaxy.

 **Ron.** _[smiles]_ Thanks, but we wouldn't want the rest of the delegation to feel unprotected.

 **Neville's Voice.** Whatever you want. I can handle anything that needs doing at this end. See you back at London.

 **Ron.** Right.

 _Ron cuts the transmission._

Eventually. _[over the intercom]_ Hagrid? We ready to fly?

 **Hagrid.** Raarrghhh.

 **Ron.** Okay. Make sure everything's bolted down and then come on up. Better bring Percy, too. We might have to talk to Slytherin Control on the way out.

 _Ron begins the launch._

 **Hermione.** Do I get to know where we're going?

 **Ron.** I already told you. We need to find someone we can trust who has his own list of illegals.

 **Hermione.** You don't mean . . . Dean?

 **Ron.** Who else? Upstanding citizen, former war hero, honest businessman. Of course he'll have hacker contacts.

 **Hermione.** _[rolls her eyes]_ Why do I suddenly have a bad feeling about this?

 _Exit all._


	20. Harry's Vision

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling or Timothy Zahn.**

 _Harry and Hedwig arrive at Mould-on-the-Would._

 **Harry.** Hang on, Hedwig. We're coming in. Scanners all working okay?

 **Hedwig.** _[beeps]_

 **Harry.** Good.

 _The Firebolt descends into the atmosphere and lands near the dark side cave._

 _Harry dismounts his Firebolt and approaches the cave._

Wonderful. Just wonderful.

 **Hedwig.** _[beeps]_

 **Harry.** Never mind, Hedwig. It's all right. Why don't you stay here, and I'll . . .

 _Hedwig tries to work her way out of the Firebolt._

Or if you'd rather, you can come along.

 **Hedwig.** _[beeps]_

 **Harry.** Hang on. I'll get down and give you a hand.

 _Stepping into the swamp, Harry telekinetically lifts Hedwig into the air and drops her softly on the ground._

There you go.

 **Hedwig.** _[beeps]_

 **Harry.** I thought Albus might have left something behind that we could use. The house should be that way. Let's go.

 _Harry and Hedwig approach Albus's house, only to discover that it has completely eroded away._

I thought Albus might have left some tapes or books behind, something that would tell me more about the methods of Auror training. Not much left, though, is there?

 _Hedwig extends her sensor plate._

Never mind. As long as we're here, I guess we might as well take a look.

 _Harry cuts through the vines with his lightwand and observes the remains of Albus's house, finding nothing of useful._

 **Hedwig.** _[whistles]_

 **Harry.** No, I don't think we're going to find anything useful. Hedwig, see if you can find anything electronic around here, will you? I never saw him use anything like that, but . . .

 _Hedwig uses her sensors, then abruptly stops._

Find something?

 **Hedwig.** _[beeps and whistles]_

 _Hedwig turns her head back the way they came._

 **Harry.** Back that way? Not here?

 **Hedwig.** _[beeps]_

 _Hedwig turns around and moves away._

 **Harry.** Okay, I'm coming. Lead the way.

 _Hedwig leads Harry back to the Firebolt, parked near the dark side cave._

Now where? I hope you're not going to tell me that all you were picking up was our own broom.

 **Hedwig.** _[whistles indignantly and indicates the dark side cave]_

 **Harry.** Are you sure?

 **Hedwig.** _[whistles]_

 **Harry.** You're sure. _[aside]_ There is no genuine need to go in there. Whatever Hedwig has detected, it will not have been anything Albus left behind . . . not in there. But then what is it? Hermione mentioned a Slytherin Dark wizard who came here. Is it something of his? _[to Hedwig]_ Stay here, Hedwig. I'll be back as soon as I can.

 _Harry approaches the dark side cave._

I am an Auror. _[into transmitter]_ Hedwig? You copy?

 **Hedwig's Voice.** _[beeps]_

 **Harry.** Okay. I'm starting in. Give me a signal when I get close to whatever it is you're picking up.

 **Hedwig's Voice.** _[beeps]_

 _Harry removes his lightwand and enters the dark side cave._

 **Harry.** _[into transmitter]_ Hedwig? You still there?

 **Hedwig's Voice.** _[beeps]_

 **Harry.** All right. How far do I have to . . . ?

 _Suddenly, Harry is standing on Golgomath's sail barge in Surrey, floating over the Chamber of Secrets._

I'm not going to play this game. I'm not. I've faced this crisis, too, and I've defeated it.

 _In the vision, Baruffio prods Harry to the edge of the plank._ _Harry jumps off the plank, then flips into the air, reaching his hand out for his lightwand. A few feet away, Hedwig tosses the lightwand to Harry._

 _Enter Ginny, who catches Harry's lightwand midair and activates it._

 _As Baruffio once more guides Harry toward the Devil's Snare, Ginny laughs, her last mission a success._

No!

 _Harry pulls himself out of the vision and is back in the dark side cave in Mould-in-the-Would._

 **Hedwig's Voice.** _[beeps]_

 **Harry.** _[into the transmitter]_ It's . . . it's okay, Hedwig. I'm all right. Are you still picking up that electronic signal?

 **Hedwig's Voice.** _[beeps]_

 **Harry.** Is it still ahead of me?

 **Hedwig's Voice.** _[beeps]_

 **Harry.** Okay.

 _Harry follows Hedwig's directions toward the location of the signal, where he discovers a small electronic device._

This is it? There's nothing else?

 **Hedwig's Voice.** _[beeps]_

 **Harry.** I don't know what it is. Maybe you'll recognize it. Hang on. I'm coming out.

 _Harry exits the dark side cave and approaches the Firebolt, where Hedwig still waits._

 **Hedwig.** _[beeps]_

 **Harry.** Relax, Hedwig. I'm all right.

 _Harry shows the device to Hedwig._

What do you think?

 _Hedwig studies the device._

 **Hedwig.** _[beeps excitedly]_

 **Harry.** Slow down, Hedwig. I can't . . . Never mind. I don't think there's any point in hanging around here anymore, anyway.

 _Harry rises to his feet._

Come on. Let's get you back into your socket. You can tell me all about it on the way home.

 _Harry and Hedwig mount the Firebolt and take off._

 **Hedwig.** _[in binary]_ No, I do not recognize this design. I cannot even decipher what it could possibly be used for, despite my state-of-the-art general-purpose scanners. With the script on the side of the device, I am not even sure what language it is from, let alone what it says. However, I do seem to recall Dean Thomas handling such a device six years ago. If I recall correctly, he was in a conversation with General Croaker at the time.

 **Harry.** Dean? I don't remember ever seeing Dean with anything like this.

 **Hedwig.** _[in binary]_ Well, I reckon you were busy at the time.

 **Harry.** Yes, I realize I was busy at the time. Getting fitted with a new hand will do that. So did he give it to General Croaker, or was he just showing it to him?

 **Hedwig.** _[in binary]_ I do not quite recall. I did not think much of it at the time.

 **Harry.** That's okay. I imagine you were busy, too.

 _Harry keys in a new course on the Firebolt._

Change of plans, Hedwig. We're going to swing over to the South West region and see Dean. Maybe he can tell us what this thing is.

 _Exit all._


	21. Cornwall

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling or Timothy Zahn.**

 _The_ Ford Anglia _approaches the region of Cornwall, pursued by security brooms._

 **Ron.** No, I don't have a transit permit for Cornwall. I also don't have any accounts here. I'm trying to reach Dean Thomas.

 _Hermione stifles a laugh._

You say something?

 **Hermione.** No. Just remembering the past.

 **Ron.** Right. _[to Fifth Officer]_ Look, just give Dean a call, will you? Tell him that an old friend is here and thought we might play a hand of Exploding Snap for my choice of his stock. Dean will understand.

 **Hermione.** We want to what?

 _Ron mutes the transmitter._

 **Ron.** The Ministry might have spies here, too. If they do, announcing our names to the whole South West region wouldn't be very smart.

 **Hermione.** Point. That's a pretty strange message, though.

 **Ron.** Not to Dean. He'll know it's me, provided that middle-level button pusher out there loosens up and sends it in.

 **Hagrid.** Something big is approaching from aft-starboard.

 **Ron.** Any make on it?

 **Fifth Officer's Voice.** Unidentified car, General Thomas has authorized a special transit waiver for you. Your escort is moving to intercept. Hold your current position until he arrives.

 **Ron.** Acknowledged.

 **Hermione.** Escort? Why an escort?

 **Ron.** That's what you get for going off and doing politics stuff when Dean drops by Headquarters for a visit. Cornwall a superhot region, way too close to its sun for any normal car to get to without getting part of its hull peeled off. Hence the escort.

 _An armored broomship arrives to escort the_ Anglia _in._

 **Hermione.** Merlin's beard. And it actually flies?

 **Ron.** Yeah, but not easily. Dean told me they had all sorts of trouble getting the things designed properly in the first place, and almost as much trouble teaching people how to fly them.

 **Hermione.** I believe it.

 **Broomship Nine.** Unidentified ship, this is Broomship Nine. Ready to lock. Please transmit your slave circuit code.

 **Ron.** Right. _[to Broomship Nine]_ Broomship Nine, we don't have a slave circuit. Just give me your course and we'll stay with you.

 **Broomship Nine.** Very well, unidentified car. Set your course at two-eight-four; speed, point six sublight.

 _The broomship moves off._

 **Ron.** Stay with him, Hagrid. _[to Broomship Nine]_ Broomship Nine, what's our ETA for Cornwall?

 **Broomship Nine.** You in a hurry, unidentified ship?

 **Ron.** _[sarcastic]_ How could we be in a hurry, with this wonderful view? Yeah, we're in kind of a hurry.

 **Broomship Nine.** Sorry to hear that. You see, if you had a slave circuit, we could do a quick Apparition hop inward together and be at Cornwall in maybe an hour. Doing it this way . . . well, it will take us about ten.

 **Ron.** _[grimaces]_ Great.

 **Hermione.** We could probably set up a temporary slave circuit. Percy knows the _Anglia_ 's computer well enough to do that.

 **Hagrid.** _[growls]_ Never.

 **Ron.** Hagrid's right. We don't slave this car to anything, ever. You copy that, broomship?

 **Broomship Nine.** Okay by me, unidentified car. I get paid by the hour anyway.

 **Ron.** Fine. Let's get to it.

 **Broomship Nine.** Sure.

 **Ron.** Hagrid. Has he got his engines off standby yet?

 **Hagrid.** No.

 **Hermione.** What's wrong?

 **Ron.** I don't know. I don't like it, though. _[to Broomship Nine]_ Broomship Nine, what's the holdup?

 **Broomship Nine.** Not to worry, unidentified car. We've got another craft coming in that also doesn't have a slave circuit, so we're going to take you both in together. No point in tying up two of us, right?

 **Ron.** You have an identification on that other craft?

 **Broomship Nine.** _[snorts]_ Hey, friend, we don't even have an identification on you.

 **Ron.** You're a big help. _[to Hagrid]_ Hagrid. You got an approach yet on this guy?

 **Hagrid.** Rarrgghh.

 **Ron.** Cute. Real cute.

 **Hermione.** I missed that.

 **Ron.** He's coming in from the far side of the broomship's central pylon. Keeping it between him and us where we can't see him.

 **Hermione.** Is he doing it on purpose?

 **Ron.** Probably. Hagrid, take over. I'm going to fire up the quads.

 _Ron exits the cockpit, passing by Percy._

 **Percy.** Captain Weasley. Is something wrong?

 **Ron.** Probably, Percy. Better strap in.

 _Ron climbs the ladder and assumes the gunnery seat._

Anything yet, Hagrid?

 **Hagrid.** No. The approaching craft is still completely hidden by the broomship's pylon. But the inference scope is now giving a distance reading. And from that, I am able to compute an upper size limit for the craft. It's not very big.

 **Ron.** Well, that's something. Stay sharp. This might be a decoy.

 _The unidentified craft comes around the pylon, revealing itself to be a Firebolt, one piloted by Harry Potter._

 **Hermione.** It's a Firebolt, with Council markings . . .

 **Harry.** Hello, strangers. Good to see you.

 **Ron.** Hello. What are you doing here?

 **Harry.** I came to see Dean. Sorry if I startled you. When they told me I'd be going in with an unidentified car, I thought it might be a trap. I wasn't completely sure it was you until a minute ago.

 **Ron.** Ah. So . . . This just a social call or what?

 **Harry.** Not really. I found an old gadget that . . . well, I thought Dean might be able to identify it. I don't think we ought to discuss it out in the open like this. How about you?

 **Ron.** I don't think we should talk about that either. _[aside, to Hermione]_ Hermione, can you tell whether or not that's really Harry out there?

 **Hermione.** I think so. I'm almost positive it is.

 **Ron.** _Almost positive_ won't cut it, sweetheart.

 **Hermione.** I know. Hang on. I've got an idea.

 _Ron tunes back in to Harry._

 **Harry.** . . . said that if I had a slave circuit they could get me in a lot faster. Apparating as close to Cornwall as the gravity well will permit, and then just a few minutes of cover before I'd be in the regional umbra and could go the rest of the way on my own.

 **Ron.** Except that Firebolts don't come equipped with slave circuits?

 **Harry.** Right. Some oversight in the design phase, no doubt.

 **Ron.** No doubt.

 **Hermione.** Actually, I'm glad you don't have one. It feels safer traveling in convoy this way. Oh, before I forget, there's someone here who wants to say hello.

 **Percy.** Hedwig. Are you there?

 **Hedwig.** _[beeps]_

 **Percy.** Well, I don't _know_ where else you might have been. From past experience, there are a considerable variety of difficulties you could have gotten yourself into. Certainly without me along to smooth things out for you.

 **Hedwig.** _[electronic snort]_

 **Percy.** Yes, well, you've _always_ believed that. I suppose you're entitled to your delusions.

 _Ron breathes a sigh of relief, moving back toward the cockpit._

 _The broomship moves the_ Ford Anglia _and the Firebolt toward Cornwall. After a few hours, they are able to descend toward the atmosphere._

 **Hermione.** What's happening?

 **Ron** We're in Cornwall's shadow. I've got a lock on Dean's mining operation. It looks like we'll be there in ten or fifteen minutes.

 **Hermione.** Okay. Have you talked with Harry lately?

 **Ron.** Not for a couple of hours. He said he was going to try and get some sleep. I think Hedwig's running the broom at the moment.

 **Hermione.** Yes, he is. Harry's not sleeping very well, though. Something's bothering him.

 **Ron.** Something's been bothering him for the past couple of months. He'll get over it.

 **Hermione.** No, this is something different, something more urgent. Parvati thought that maybe he'd be willing to talk to you about it.

 **Ron.** Well, he hasn't yet. Look, don't worry. When he's ready to talk, he'll talk.

 **Hermione.** I suppose so. Incredible. Do you realize you can actually see part of the solar corona from here?

 **Ron.** Yeah, well, don't ask me to take you out for a closer look. Those broomships aren't just for show, you know. The sunlight out there is strong enough to fry every sensor we have in a few seconds and take the _Anglia_ 's hull off a couple of minutes later.

 **Hermione.** First Newham, now Cornwall. Have you ever known Dean when he wasn't involved in some kind of crazy scheme?

 **Ron.** Not very often. Though at Newham, at least, he had a known technology to work with. West Ham had been running for years before he got hold of it. This . . . They had to think up pretty much from scratch.

 **Hermione.** I think I see the city. That group of lights over there.

 **Ron.** Too small. More likely it's an outrider group of mole miners. Last I heard he had just over a hundred of the things digging stuff out of the surface.

 **Hermione.** You mean those asteroid brooms we helped him achieve?

 **Ron.** No, he's using those in the outer region for tug work. These are little two-man jobs that look like cones with the points chopped off. They've got a set of plasma-jet drills pointing down around the underside hatch. You just land where you want to drill, fire the jets for a minute or two to chop up the ground, then go on down through the hatch and pick up the pieces.

 **Hermione.** Oh, right, I remember those now. They were originally asteroid miners, too, weren't they?

 **Ron.** The style was. Dean found this particular batch being used in a smelting complex somewhere. Instead of just removing the plasma jets, the owners had hauled the things up whole and wedged them into place on the line.

 **Hermione.** I wonder how Dean got hold of them.

 **Ron.** We probably don't want to know.

 **Control.** Unidentified ships, this is Cornish Control. You've been cleared for landing on platforms five and six. Follow the beacon in, and watch out for the bumps.

 **Ron.** Got it.

 _The_ Ford Anglia _and the Firebolt descend into Dean's mining colony._

Tell me again about Dean and crazy schemes?

 _Hermione shakes her head, admiring the area. As they land in Cornwall, the transmitter crackles again._

 **Dean.** Unidentified car. Welcome to Cornwall. What's this about playing a hand of Exploding Snap?

 **Ron.** _[smiles]_ Hello, Dean. We were just talking about you.

 **Dean.** I'll bet. Probably remarking on my business skills and creativity.

 **Ron.** Something like that. Any special trick involved in landing on that thing?

 **Dean.** Not really. We're only going a few kilometers an hour, after all. Is that Harry in the Firebolt?

 **Harry.** Yes, I'm here. This place is amazing, Dean.

 **Dean.** Wait until you see it from the inside. It's about time you people came to visit, I might add. Are Hermione and Hagrid with you?

 **Hermione.** We're all here.

 **Ron.** It's not exactly a social call. We need a little help.

 **Dean.** Well, sure. Anything I can do. Look, I'm in Project Central at the moment, supervising a difficult dig. I'll have someone meet you on the landing platform and bring you down here. Don't forget there's no air here. Make sure you wait for the docking tube to connect before you try popping the hatch.

 **Ron.** Right. Make sure your reception committee is someone you can trust.

 **Dean.** Oh? Is there something . . . ?

 _An electronic squeal sounds from the transmitter._

 **Hermione.** What's that?

 **Ron.** Someone's jamming us. _[over the intercom]_ Hagrid. We've got trouble. Get up here.

 **Hagrid.** Raarrghh.

 **Ron.** Get us a scan of the area. See if there's anything coming in.

 **Hermione.** Right. What are you going to do?

 **Ron.** I'm going to find us a clear frequency.

 _Ron pulls the_ Anglia _out of its approach vector, then turns the transmitter back on, keeping the volume low. Abruptly, the squealing stops, and Dean's voice comes through._

 **Dean.**. . . peating: any ships who can read me, please check in.

 **Ron.** Dean. It's me. What's going on?

 **Dean.** I'm not sure. It could be just a solar flare scrambling our communications. That happens sometimes. But the pattern here doesn't seem quite right for . . .

 **Ron.** What?

 **Dean.** Ministry cruiser. Coming in fast toward the regional shadow.

 _Ron and Hermione exchange looks._

 **Hermione.** They've found us.


	22. Crouch's Contact

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling or Timothy Zahn.**

 _On his Firebolt, Harry flies alongside the_ Ford Anglia _, as the Ministry cruiser approaches._

 **Hedwig.** _[beeps]_

 **Harry.** I see it, Hedwig. I see it. Let me worry about the Ministry cruiser. You just keep trying to find a way through that jamming.

 **Hedwig.** _[beeps]_

 _The_ Ford Anglia _contacts the Firebolt._

 **Ron.** Harry?

 **Harry.** I'm here. What's the plan?

 **Ron.** I was hoping you'd have one. It looks like we're a little outnumbered here.

 **Harry.** Does Dean have any brooms?

 **Ron.** He's scrambling what he's got. But he's going to keep them close in to protect the complex. I get the feeling the crews aren't all that experienced.

 **Harry.** It looks like we're the attack front, then. Let's try this. I'll run ahead of you, try to confuse or slow down their reflexes as much as I can. You follow right behind me and take them out.

 **Ron.** Sounds as good as we're going to get. Stay close to the ground. With luck, we'll be able to run some of them into those low ridges.

 **Hermione.** But don't get too low. Remember that you're not going to be able to concentrate very much on your flying.

 **Harry.** I can handle both.

 _Enter the Ministry brooms._

 **Ron.** Here they come. Out of the hangar and on their way. It looks like . . . probably only one squadron. Overconfident.

 **Harry.** Maybe. What are those other brooms with them?

 **Ron.** I don't know. They're pretty big, though, could be troop carriers.

 **Harry.** Let's hope not. You'd better warn Dean.

 **Ron.** Hermione's on it. You ready?

 **Harry.** I'm ready.

 **Ron.** Okay. Let's do it.

 _As the Ministry brooms advance on them, Harry reaches into the Magic, trying to deliberately distorting the senses of the Ministry. As he does so, Harry hears the voice of Bartemiuus Crouch._

 **Crouch.** _[via Sonorus]_ Harry?

 **Harry.** _[via Sonorus]_ Sirius?

 **Crouch.** _[via Sonorus]_ You will come to me, Harry. You must come to me. I will await you.

 **Harry.** _[via Sonorus]_ Who are you? Where are you?

 **Crouch.** _[via Sonorus]_ You will find me. You will find me . . . and the Aurors shall rise again. Until then, farewell.

 **Harry.** _[via Sonorus]_ Wait.

 _Crouch breaks the connection, and Harry comes back to his senses, hearing voices over the transmitter._

 _[into the transmitter]_ Hermione?

 **Hermione.** Harry. Are you all right?

 **Harry.** Sure. I'm fine. What's wrong?

 **Ron.** You're what's wrong. You planning to chase them all the way home?

 _Harry blinks and notices that the Ministry cruiser and brooms have disappeared._

 **Harry.** It's all over?

 **Hermione.** It's all over. We got two of the Ministry brooms before the rest disengaged and retreated.

 **Harry.** What about the troop carriers?

 **Ron.** They went back with the brooms. We still don't know what they were doing here. We sort of lost track of them during the fight. It didn't look like they ever went very close to the city itself, though.

 _Harry glances at his watch._

 **Harry.** _[aside]_ In and among all of that, I've somehow lost over half an hour, half an hour that my internal time sense has no recollection of whatsoever. Could that strange Auror contact really have lasted that long? That is something I'll have to look into . . . very carefully.

 _Exit all._


	23. Nurmengard

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling or Timothy Zahn.**

 _Grindelwald, Ogden, and Crouch stand on the bridge of_ Nurmengard _, observing the battle at Cornwall._

 **Ogden.** They're clear, Admiral.

 **Grindelwald.** Good. _[to Crouch]_ So . . . Mr. Crouch?

 **Crouch.** They fulfilled their mission. They obtained fifty-one of the mole miner machines you sent them for.

 **Grindelwald.** Fifty-one. Excellent. You had no problem guiding them in and out?

 **Crouch.** They fulfilled their mission. How many times do you intend to ask me the same question?

 **Grindelwald.** Until I'm sure I have the correct answer. For a while there, your face looked as if you were having trouble.

 **Crouch.** I had no trouble, Grand Admiral Grindelwald. What I had was conversation . . . with Harry Potter.

 **Ogden.** What are you talking about? Current intelligence reports indicate that Potter is . . .

 _Grindelwald silences him with a look._

 **Grindelwald.** Explain.

 **Crouch.** He's there right now, Grand Admiral Grindelwald. He arrived in Cornwall just ahead of the _Durmstrang_.

 _Grindelwald's eyes narrow._

 **Grindelwald.** Potter is in Cornwall?

 **Crouch.** In the very center of the battle.

 **Grindelwald.** And you said nothing to me?

 **Crouch.** I told you before, Grand Admiral Grindelwald. You will leave Potter alone. I will deal with him . . . in my own time, in my own way. All I require of you is the fulfillment of your promise to take me to Little Hangleton.

 _Grindelwald holds his gaze with Crouch._

 **Grindelwald.** It's too soon.

 **Crouch.** Why? Because you find my talents too useful to give up?

 **Grindelwald.** Not at all. It's a simple matter of efficiency. The rumors of your presence haven't had enough time to spread. Until we can be sure Potter will respond, you'll just be wasting your time there.

 **Crouch.** Oh, he'll respond. Trust me, Grand Admiral Grindelwald. He will respond.

 **Grindelwald.** _[sardonic]_ I always trust you.

 _Grindelwald strokes his hinkypunk._

At any rate, I suppose it's your own time to waste. _[to Ogden]_ Captain Ogden, how long will it take to repair the damage to the _Durmstrang_?

 **Ogden.** Several days at the least, Admiral. Depending on the damage, it could take as long as three or four weeks.

 **Grindelwald.** All right. We'll go to the rendezvous point, stay with them long enough to make sure repairs are properly underway, and then take Mr. Crouch to Little Hangleton. _[to Crouch]_ I trust that will be satisfactory?

 **Crouch.** Yes. I will rest now, Grand Admiral Grindelwald. Alert me if you need my assistance.

 **Grindelwald.** Certainly.

 _Exit Crouch._

I want a course projection, Captain. The most direct line from Cornwall to Little Hangleton, at the best speed a Firebolt could take it.

 **Ogden.** Yes, Admiral. You think he's right about Potter going there?

 **Grindelwald.** _[shrugs]_ The Aurors had ways of influencing people, Captain, even over considerable distances. It's possible that even out here he was close enough to Potter to plant a suggestion or compulsion. Whether those techniques will work on another Auror . . . We'll see.

 **Ogden.** Yes, sir.

 _Ogden calculates the course the Firebolt would have to take._

Well, even if Potter leaves Cornwall immediately, there won't be any problem getting Crouch to Little Hangleton ahead of him.

 **Grindelwald.** I knew that much already, Captain. What I need is a bit more challenging. We're going to drop Crouch off in Little Hangleton, then backtrack to a point on Potter's projected course, a point at least twenty light-years away, I think.

 **Ogden.** _[frowns]_ I don't understand, sir.

 **Grindelwald.** It's quite simple, Captain. I mean to disabuse our great and glorious Auror Master of his growing belief that he's indispensable to us.

 **Ogden.** So we wait along Potter's projected approach to Little Hangleton and ambush him?

 **Grindelwald.** Precisely. At which point we decide whether to capture him for Crouch or simply kill him.

 **Ogden.** You promised Crouch he could have him.

 **Grindelwald.** I'm reconsidering the deal. Potter has proved himself to be highly dangerous, and by all accounts has already withstood at least one attempt to turn him. Crouch should have more success bending Potter's sister and her twins to his will.

 _Ogden glances around nervously._

 **Ogden.** Perhaps he's looking forward to the challenge, sir.

 **Grindelwald.** There will be many challenges for him to face before the Ministry is reestablished. Let him save his talents and cunning for those. At any rate, he'll likely forget all about Potter once he has the sister. I expect our Auror Master's wants and desires will prove to be as erratic as his moods.

 **Ogden.** I respectfully suggest, Admiral, that we still make every possible effort to take Potter alive, particularly since his death might induce Crouch to leave Little Hangleton and return to Horcrux.

 **Grindelwald.** Interesting point, Captain. Interesting point, indeed. You're right, of course. By all means, we must keep him off Horcrux . . . at least until the work on the Rackharrow canisters is finished, and we have all the hinkypunks there we're going to need. _[smiles]_ His reaction to what we're doing there might not be at all pleasant.

 **Ogden.** Agreed, sir.

 **Grindelwald.** Very well, Captain. I accede to your suggestion. It's time to be going. Prepare _Nurmengard_ for lightspeed.

 **Ogden.** Yes, sir. Direct route to the rendezvous point?

 **Grindelwald.** We'll be making a short detour first. I want you to swing us around the region to the commercial out-vector near the broomship depot and drop some probes to watch for Potter's departure. Near-system and farther out. And who knows? Where Potter goes, the _Ford Anglia_ often goes, as well.

 **Ogden.** And then we'll have them all.

 _Exit all._


	24. Hagrid's Plan

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling or Timothy Zahn.**

 _Dean Thomas paces in his office at Cornwall. Sitting in chairs nearby are Ron, Hermione, and Hagrid._

 **Dean.** _[angry]_ Fifty-one. Fifty-one of my best reconditioned mole miners. Fifty-one. That's almost half my work force. You realize that? Half my work force.

 _Dean sits, then glances at Hermione._

I'm sorry. I'm neglecting my duties as host, aren't I? Welcome to Cornwall.

 _Dean kisses Hermione's hand._

So. What do you think of my little enterprise?

 **Hermione.** Impressive. How did you ever come up with the idea for this place?

 **Dean.** Oh, it's been kicking around for years. I found plans for something similar once in the West Ham files, dating back to when Lord Stoddard Withers first built the place. Most of the metal they used came from the nearby region Essex, and even with leprechauns doing the mining they had a devil of a time with it. Withers sketched out an idea for a rolling mining center that could stay permanently out of direct sunlight on Essex's dark side. But nothing ever came of it.

 **Ron.** It wasn't practical. Essex's terrain was too rough for something on wheels to get across easily.

 **Dean.** How do you know about that?

 **Ron.** I spent an afternoon going through the Ministry files once, back when you were trying to talk Millicent Bagnold into helping fund this place, wanted to make sure someone else hadn't already tried it and found out it didn't work.

 **Dean.** Nice of you to go to that kind of trouble. So, what's going on?

 **Hermione.** We should probably wait until Harry gets here to talk about it.

 **Dean.** Where is he, anyway?

 **Ron.** He wanted to catch a fast shower and change. Those Firebolts don't have much in the way of comfort.

 **Dean.** Especially over long trips. I've always thought putting a hyperdrive on something that small was a poor idea.

 **Ron.** I'd better see what's keeping him. You have a transmitter in this room?

 **Dean.** It's over there. Key for central; they'll track him down for you.

 **Ron.** Thanks.

 _Ron walks over to the transmitter._

 **Dean.** It's bad, isn't it?

 **Hermione.** Bad enough. There's a chance that that Ministry cruiser came here looking for me.

 **Dean.** You came here for help.

 **Hermione.** Yes.

 **Dean.** Well, I'll do what I can, of course.

 **Hermione.** Thank you.

 **Dean.** Sure.

 _Ron returns with Harry, and together with Hermione, they update Dean on the recent events._

 **Dean.** No. If there was a leak, it didn't come from Cornwall.

 **Hermione.** How can you be sure of that?

 **Dean.** Because there's been no bounty offered for you. We have our fair share of shady people here, but they're all out for profit. None of them would turn you over to the Ministry just for the fun of it. Besides, why would the Ministry steal my mole miners if they were after you?

 **Ron.** Harassment, maybe. I mean, why steal mole miners anyway?

 **Dean.** You got me. Maybe they're trying to put economic pressure on one of my clients, or maybe they just want to disrupt the Wizards' Council's flow of raw materials generally. Anyway, that's beside the point. The point is that they took the mole miners, and they didn't take you.

 **Harry.** How do you know there's been no bounty offer?

 **Dean.** Because I'd have heard about it. Just because I'm respectable doesn't mean I'm out of touch.

 **Ron.** I told you he'd have contacts. Great. So which of these contacts do you trust, Dean?

 **Dean.** Well . . .

 _A transmitter beeps._

Excuse me. _[into transmitter]_ Yes? . . . What kind of transmitter? . . . All right, I'll take care of it. Continue scanning.

 _Dean breaks the connection._

That was my communications section. They've picked up a short-range transmitter on a very unusual frequency . . . which appears to be sending from this lounge.

 **Ron.** What kind of transmitter?

 _Harry retrieves the device he discovered at Mould-in-the-Would._

 **Harry.** This kind, probably. I thought you might be able to identify it for me.

 _Dean studies the device._

 **Dean.** Interesting. I haven't seen one of these in years. Not this style, anyway. Where'd you get it?

 **Harry.** It was buried in mud in the middle of a swamp. Hedwig was able to pick it up from pretty far away, but he couldn't tell me what it was.

 **Dean.** That's our transmitter, all right. It's amazing that it's still running.

 **Ron.** What exactly is it transmitting?

 **Dean.** Just a carrier signal. And the range is small, well under a regional radius. Nobody used it to follow Harry here, if that's what you were wondering.

 **Harry.** Do you know what it is?

 **Dean.** Sure. It's an old beckon call, pre-Wizarding Wars vintage, from the looks of it.

 **Harry.** A beckon call? You mean like a ship's remote?

 **Dean.** Right. Only a lot more sophisticated. If you had a ship with a full-rig slave system, you could tap in a single command on the call and the ship would come straight to you, automatically maneuvering around any obstacles along the way. Some of them would even fight their way through opposing ships, if necessary, with a reasonable degree of skill, which could be extremely useful at times.

 **Ron.** _[snorts]_ Tell that to the _Peverell_ fleet.

 **Dean.** Well, of course you have to build in some safeguards. But to simply decentralize important ship's functions into dozens or hundreds of droids just creates its own set of problems. The limited jump-slave circuits we use here between transports and broomships are certainly safe enough.

 **Harry.** Did you use jump-slave circuits in West Ham, too? Hedwig said he saw you with one of these right after we got out of there.

 **Dean.** My personal ship was full-rigged. I wanted something I could get at a moment's warning, just in case. Snape's people must have found it and shut it down while they were waiting for you, because it sure didn't come when I called it. You say you found it in a swamp?

 **Harry.** Yes. On Mould-in-the-Would.

 **Hermione.** Mould-in-the-Would? As in the region that Dark wizard from Avalon fled to?

 **Harry.** That's the place. This must have been his.

 **Dean.** It could just as easily have been lost some other time by someone else. Pre-Wizarding Wars calls could run for a century or more on standby.

 **Harry.** No. It was his, all right. The cave where I found it absolutely tingles with the dark side. I think it must have been the place where he died.

 _Hermione studies Harry, leading Harry to look up sharply._

We were talking about Dean's smuggler contacts.

 **Ron.** Right. I need to know which of your marginally legal friends you can trust.

 **Dean.** Depends on what you need to trust them with.

 **Ron.** Hermione's life.

 **Hagrid.** Rarrghh.

 **Dean.** You're not serious.

 **Ron.** _[nods]_ You saw how close the Ministry is breathing down our necks. We need a place to hide her until Murcus can find out how they're getting their information. She needs to stay in touch with what's happening in London, which means a diplomatic station we can quietly tap into.

 **Dean.** And a diplomatic station means encrypt codes. And quietly tapping into encrypt codes means finding a hacker.

 **Ron.** A hacker you can trust.

 **Dean.** I'm sorry, Ron, but I don't know any hackers I trust that far.

 **Ron.** Do you know any smuggler groups that have one or two on retainer?

 **Dean.** That I trust? Not really. The only one who might even come close is a smuggler chief named Aberforth Dumbledore. Everyone I've talked to says he's extremely honest in his trade dealings.

 **Harry.** Have you ever met him?

 **Dean.** Once. He struck me as a pretty cold fish, calculating and highly mercenary.

 **Ron.** I've heard of Dumbledore. I've been trying for months to contact him, in fact. McLaggen . . . You remember McLaggen? He told me Dumbledore's group was probably the biggest one around these days.

 **Dean.** Could be. Unlike Golgomath, Aberforth doesn't go around flaunting his power and influence. I'm not even sure where his base is, let alone what his loyalties are.

 **Ron.** If he has any loyalties. A lot of them out there don't.

 **Dean.** It's an occupational hazard. I don't know, Ron. I'd offer to put the two of you up here, but we just don't have the defenses to stop a really serious attack . . . unless we do something clever.

 **Ron.** Such as?

 **Dean.** Such as taking a broom and burying it underground. We put it right by the dawn line, and within a few hours you'd be under direct sunlight. The Imperials wouldn't even be able to find you there, let alone get to you.

 **Ron.** _[shakes his head]_ Too risky. If we ran into any problems, there also wouldn't be any way for anyone to get help to us.

 **Hagrid.** Urggh.

 _Ron glances over at Hagrid, engaging him in a discussion while Dean turns to Hermione._

 **Dean.** It wouldn't be as risky as it looks. We should be able to make the broom itself foolproof. We've done similar things with delicate survey instrument packs without damaging them.

 **Hermione.** How long is Cornwall's rotation?

 **Dean.** Just over ninety standard days.

 **Hermione.** Which means we'd be completely out of touch with London for a minimum of forty-five . . . unless you've got a transmitter that would operate on the sunside.

 **Dean.** _[shakes his head]_ The best we've got would be fried in minutes.

 **Hermione.** In that case, I'm afraid . . .

 **Ron.** _[clears his throat]_ Hagrid has a suggestion.

 **Hermione.** Well?

 **Ron.** He says that if you want, he's willing to take you to Minsk.

 _Hermione glances at Hagrid._

 **Hermione.** I was under the impression that half-giants discouraged human visitors to their region.

 **Hagrid.** Raarrghh.

 **Ron.** The half-giants were friendly enough to humans before the Ministry came in and started enslaving them. Anyway, it ought to be possible to keep the visit pretty quiet: you, Hagrid, the Wizards' Council rep, and a couple of others.

 **Hermione.** Except that we're back to the Wizards' Council rep knowing about me.

 **Dean.** Yes, but he'll be a half-giant. If he accepts you under his personal protection, he won't betray you. Period.

 **Hermione.** Sounds good. So tell me why you don't like it.

 **Ron.** Minsk isn't exactly the safest place in the galaxy, especially for those who are not half-giant. You'll be living in trees, hundreds of meters above the ground . . .

 **Hermione.** I'll be with Hagrid. You've trusted your own life to him often enough.

 **Ron.** This is different.

 **Harry.** Why don't you go with them? Then she'll be doubly protected.

 **Ron.** Right. I was planning to, except that Hagrid thinks it'll gain us more time if Hermione and I split up. He takes her to Minsk. I fly around in the _Anglia_ , pretending she's still with me . . . somehow.

 **Dean.** Makes sense to me.

 **Hermione.** Hagrid and I will be fine. Don't worry.

 **Dean.** I guess that's settled, then. You can use my ship, of course, Hagrid. In fact, if you want company, Ron, maybe I'll come along with you.

 **Ron.** _[shrugs]_ If you want to, sure.

 **Dean.** Good. We should probably fly out of Cornwall together. I've been planning an out-of-town purchasing trip for a couple of weeks now, so I've got an excuse to leave. Once we're past the broomship depot, Hagrid and Hermione can take my ship and no one will be the wiser.

 **Harry.** And then Ron sends some messages to London pretending Hermione's aboard?

 **Dean.** Actually, I think we can do a little bit better than that. You still have Percy with you?

 **Hermione.** He's helping Hedwig run a damage check on the _Anglia_. Why?

 **Dean.** You'll see. This will take a little time, but I think it will be worth it. Come on. Let's go talk to my chief programmer.

 _Exit all._


	25. Percy's New Voice

**Disclaimer: I am not George Lucas or J.K. Rowling.**

 _Harry sits in Dean's office in Cornwall, looking through an endless pile of maps._

 _Enter Hermione._

 **Hermione.** There you are. We were starting to wonder where you went.

 **Harry.** I had some things to check on. You finished already?

 **Hermione.** My part is. They're working on tailoring the program now. After that, it will be Percy's turn.

 **Harry.** _[shakes his head]_ It seems to me the whole thing ought to be simpler than all that.

 **Hermione.** Oh, the basic technique is. Apparently, the hard part is slipping it past the relevant part of Percy's watchdog programming without changing his personality in the process.

 _Hermione studies the maps in Harry's hands._

I was going to ask you if you'd be interested in coming to Minsk with me. But it looks like you've got somewhere else to go.

 **Harry.** I'm not running out on you, Hermione. Really I'm not. This is something that in the long run could mean more for you and the twins than anything I could do in Minsk.

 **Hermione.** All right. Can you at least tell me where you're going?

 **Harry.** I don't know yet. There's someone out there I have to find. But I'm not sure yet even where to start looking. _[hesitates]_ He's another Auror.

 **Hermione.** You're not serious.

 **Harry.** _[frowns]_ Why not? It's a big galaxy, you know.

 **Hermione.** A galaxy in which you were supposedly the last of the Aurors. Isn't that what you said Albus told you before he died?

 **Harry.** Yes. But I'm beginning to think he might have been mistaken.

 **Hermione.** _[raises her eyebrows]_ Mistaken? An Auror Master?

 **Harry.** Aurors sometimes say things that are misleading. And even Auror Masters aren't omniscient. _[hesitates]_ You'll have to keep this to yourself . . . I mean, really to yourself. I don't even want you to tell Ron or Dean, unless it becomes absolutely necessary. They don't have the resistance to interrogation that you do.

 **Hermione.** I understand.

 **Harry.** All right. Did it ever occur to you to wonder why Master Albus was able to stay hidden from the Dark Lord and Snape all those years?

 **Hermione.** _[shrugs]_ I suppose I assumed they didn't know he existed.

 **Harry.** Yes, but they should have. They knew I existed by my effect on the Magic. Why not Albus?

 **Hermione.** Some kind of mental shielding?

 **Harry.** Maybe. But I think it's more likely it was because of where he chose to live . . . or maybe where events chose for him to live.

 **Hermione.** _[smiles]_ Is this where I finally get to find out where this secret training center of yours was?

 **Harry.** I didn't want anyone else to know. He was so perfectly hidden. And even after his death, I was afraid the Ministry might be able to do something . . . Anyway, I can't see that it matters now. Albus's home was at Mould-on-the-Would, practically next door to the dark side cave where I found that beckon call.

 **Hermione.** Mould-on-the-Would . . . I've always wondered how that renegade Dark wizard was finally defeated. It must have been Albus who . . .

 **Harry.** Who stopped him. And he probably didn't stop him with a lot of time to spare.

 **Hermione.** The beckon call was already on standby. He must have been getting ready to call his ship.

 **Harry.** _[nods]_ All of which could explain why the cave was so heavy with the dark side. What it doesn't explain is why Albus decided to stay there.

 **Hermione.** The cave shielded him. Just like a pair of positive and negative electric charges close enough together . . . To a distant observer, they look almost like no charge at all.

 **Harry.** I think that's it. And if that's really how Master Albus stayed hidden, there's no reason why another Auror couldn't have pulled the same trick.

 **Hermione.** I'm sure another Auror could have. But I don't think this Crouch rumor is anywhere near solid enough to chase off after.

 **Harry.** _[frowns]_ What Crouch rumor?

 **Hermione.** _[frowns]_ The story that an Auror Master named Bartemius Crouch has reemerged from wherever it was he's spent the past few decades. You hadn't heard it?

 **Harry.** _[shakes his head]_ No.

 **Hermione.** But then how . . . ?

 **Harry.** Someone called to me, Hermione, during the battle this afternoon . . . in my mind, the way another Auror would.

 **Hermione.** I don't believe it. I just don't. Where could someone with Crouch's power and history have hidden for so long? And why?

 **Harry.** The why I don't know. As to the where . . . That's what I've been looking for. Someplace where a Dark wizard or witch might once have died. Do the rumors say where Crouch is supposed to be?

 **Hermione.** It could be an Ministry trap. The person who called to you could just as easily be a Dark wizard like Snape, with this Crouch rumor dangled in front of us to lure you in. Don't forget that Albus wasn't counting them. Both Snape and the Dark Lord were still alive when he said you were the last Auror.

 **Harry.** That's a possibility. It could also be just a garbled rumor. But if it's not . . .

 _Harry and Hermione hold their gazes for a moment._

 **Hermione.** He's in Little Hangleton. At least according to the rumor Neville quoted for us.

 _Harry analyzes a map of Little Hangleton._

 **Harry.** Not very populated. Less than three million people, all told. Or at least back when this was compiled. It doesn't look like anyone's taken official notice of the region in fifteen years. It's just the sort of place an Auror might choose to hide from the Ministry.

 **Hermione.** You'll be leaving right away?

 **Harry.** No, I'll wait until you and Hagrid are ready to go. That way I can fly out with your broomship. Give you that much protection, at least.

 **Hermione.** Thanks. I hope you know what you're doing.

 **Harry.** So do I. But whether I do or not, it's something I have to try. That much I know for sure.

 **Hermione.** I suppose that's one of the things I'm going to have to get used to: letting the Magic move me around.

 **Harry.** Don't worry about it. It doesn't happen all at once. You get to ease into it. Come on. Let's go see how they're coming with Percy.

 _Harry and Hermione head back toward the_ Ford Anglia _._

 _Enter Ron, Dean, Percy, and Hedwig._

 **Percy.** At last. Master Harry. Please tell General Thomas that what he intends to do is a serious violation of my primary programming.

 **Harry.** It will be all right, Percy. Dean and his people will be careful that nothing happens to you.

 _Harry glances at Dean, who nods._

 **Percy.** But Master Harry . . .

 **Dean.** Actually, Percy, you could think of this as really just fulfilling your primary programming in a more complete way. I mean, isn't a translation droid supposed to speak for the person he's translating for?

 **Percy.** I am primarily a prefect droid. And I say again that this is not the sort of thing covered by any possible stretch of protocol.

 _One of Dean's employees glance up at him, having completed the program._

 **Dean.** We're ready.

 _Dean flips a switch on Percy._

Give it a second . . . All right. Say something, Percy.

 **Percy.** _[in Hermione's voice]_ Oh, dear.

 _Hedwig whistles softly._

 **Dean.** That's it. The perfect decoy for the perfect lady.

 **Percy.** This feels decidedly strange.

 **Ron.** Sounds good. We ready to go, then?

 **Dean.** Give me an hour to log some last-minute instructions. It will take our broomship that long to get here, anyway.

 **Ron.** We'll meet you at the ship.

 _Exit Dean._

Come on. We had better get back to the _Anglia_.

 **Hermione.** _[smiles]_ It will be all right, Ron. Hagrid and the other half-giants will take good care of me.

 **Ron.** They'd better. _[to Percy]_ Let's go, Percy. I can hardly wait to hear what Hagrid thinks of your new voice.

 **Percy.** Oh, dear. Oh, dear.

 _Exit Ron and Percy._

 **Hermione.** Do I really sound like that?

 _Exit all._


	26. Dean's Plan

**Disclaimer: I am not George Lucas or J.K. Rowling.**

 _Enter Ron and Dean, on the_ Ford Anglia _._

 **Dean.** She'll be fine. She's as safe now as she's ever likely to be. Don't worry.

 **Ron.** You know, that's almost exactly the same thing you said back at Exmoor. That botched dittany run, remember? You said, "It will be fine. Don't worry about it."

 **Dean.** _[laughs]_ Yes, but this time I mean it.

 **Ron.** That's nice to know. So what do you have planned for entertainment?

 **Dean.** Well, the first thing we ought to do is have Percy send off a message to London, give the impression that Hermione's aboard to any Ministry officials who might be listening. After that, we could move a couple of regions over and send another message. And after that, I thought we might like to do a little sightseeing.

 **Ron.** _[suspicious]_ Sightseeing? You mean as in flying all over the galaxy looking for replacement mole miners?

 **Dean.** Ron. Are you suggesting I'd stoop so low as to try and con you into helping me run my business?

 **Ron.** Forgive me. I forgot. You're respectable now. So what sights are we going to see?

 **Dean.** Well, you mentioned earlier that you hadn't been able to get in touch with Aberforth Dumbledore. I thought we might take another crack at it.

 **Ron.** _[frowns]_ You serious?

 **Dean.** Why not? You want cargo brooms, and you want a good slicer. Aberforth can supply both.

 **Ron.** I don't need a slicer anymore. Hermione's as safe now as she's ever likely to be. Remember?

 **Dean.** Sure . . . until someone leaks the news that she's there. I don't think the half-giants would, but there are non-half-giant traders flying in and out of Minsk all the time. All it takes is one person's spotting her, and you'll be right back where you were when you first got here. And Aberforth might also have something on this mysterious Ministry commander who's been running you in circles lately.

 **Ron.** The Ministry commander who is almost certainly behind the attacks on Hermione . . . You know how to make contact with Aberforth?

 **Dean.** Not directly. But I know how to get to his people. And I thought that as long as we had Percy and his umpteen million languages aboard anyway, we'd just go ahead and cut a new contact path.

 **Ron.** That will take time.

 **Dean.** Not as much as you might think. Besides, a new path will cover our trail better, yours and mine both.

 **Ron.** _[grimaces]_ All right . . . assuming we don't wind up playing tag with a Ministry cruiser or two.

 **Dean.** Right. The last thing we want is to draw the Ministry onto Aberforth's tail. We've got enough enemies out there as it is. _[through tranceiver]_ Percy. You there?"

 **Hermione's Voice.** _[Percy]_ Of course.

 **Dean.** Come on up here. Time for your debut performance.

 _Exit all._


	27. Grindelwald's Insight

**Disclaimer: I am not George Lucas or J.K. Rowling.**

 _Ogden enters Grindelwald's quarters, entirely decorated with sculptures._

 **Ogden.** Admiral?

 _Enter Grindelwald._

 **Grindelwald.** Come in, Captain. You have something?

 **Ogden.** Yes, sir. One of our probes in the outer Cornwall region has picked up Potter . . . and his companions.

 **Grindelwald.** And his companions.

 _Grindelwald takes a data card from Ogden and downloads it, studying the contents within._

Interesting. Interesting indeed. What's that third broom, the one maneuvering to link with the _Ford Anglia_ 's dorsal hatch?

 **Ogden.** We've tentatively identified it as the _Felix Felicis_ , Administrator Dean Thomas's personal broom. One of the other probes copied a transmission stating that Thomas was leaving Cornwall on a purchasing trip.

 **Grindelwald.** Do we know that Thomas did, in fact, mount the broom at Cornwall?

 **Ogden.** Ah . . . no, sir, not for certain. We can try to get that information, though.

 **Grindelwald.** Unnecessary. Our enemies are clearly past the stage of such childish tricks. Observe, Captain, their strategy. Captain Weasley and his wife and probably the half-giant Hagrid board their broom at Cornwall, while Thomas similarly boards his. They fly to the outer Cornwall region . . . and there they make a switch.

 **Ogden.** _[frowns]_ But we've . . .

 **Grindelwald.** Shh.

 _Grindelwald and Ogden observe the video, watching as the_ Ford Anglia _and the_ Felix Felicis _move close together, then carefully maneuver away from each other._

Excellent. Four minutes, fifty-three seconds. They're in a hurry, of course, locked together so vulnerably. Which means . . . three people. Three people transferred, in one direction or the other, between those two broomships.

 **Ogden.** _[taken aback]_ Yes, sir. At any rate, we know that Hermione Granger Weasley remained aboard the _Ford Anglia_.

 **Grindelwald.** Do we? Do we indeed?

 **Ogden.** I believe we do, sir, yes. Right after the _Felix Felicis_ and Potter's Firebolt left, we intercepted a transmission from her that definitely originated from the _Ford Anglia_.

 **Grindelwald.** _[shakes his head]_ A recording . . . no. They're cleverer than that. A voiceprint-doctored droid, then . . . probably Potter's prefect droid. Hermione Granger Weasley, you see, was one of the two people who left with the _Felix Felicis_.

 **Ogden.** I don't understand.

 **Grindelwald.** Consider the possibilities. Three people start out aboard the _Ford Anglia_ , one aboard the _Felix Felicis_. Three people then transfer. But neither Weasley nor Thomas is the type to turn his broomship over to the dubious command of a computer or droid. So each broomship must end up with at least one person aboard. You follow so far?

 **Ogden.** Yes, sir. That doesn't tell us who is where, though.

 **Grindelwald.** Patience, Captain. Patience. As you say, the question now is that of the final makeup of the crews. Fortunately, once we know there were three transfers, there are only two possible combinations. Either Weasley and Granger Weasley are together aboard the _Felix Felicis_ or else Granger Weasley and the half-giant are there.

 **Ogden.** Unless one of the transfers was a droid.

 **Grindelwald.** Unlikely. Historically, Weasley has never liked droids, nor allowed them to travel aboard his car except under highly unusual circumstances. Potter's droid and its messenger counterpart appear to be the sole exceptions. And thanks to your transmission data, we already know that that droid has remained on the _Ford Anglia_.

 **Ogden.** Yes, sir. Shall I put out an alert on the _Felix Felicis_ , then?

 **Grindelwald.** That won't be necessary. I know exactly where Hermione Granger Weasley is going.

 **Ogden.** You're not serious, sir.

 **Grindelwald.** Perfectly serious, Captain. Consider: Weasley and Granger Weasley have nothing to gain by simply transferring together to the _Felix Felicis_. The _Ford Anglia_ is faster and far better defended. This exercise only makes sense if Granger Weasley and the half-giant are together. _[smiles]_ And given that, there is only one logical place for them to go.

 **Ogden.** Minsk?

 **Grindelwald.** Minsk. They know they can't evade our vampires forever, and so they've decided to surround her with half-giants . . . for all the good it will do them.

 **Ogden.** It may not be as easy as it sounds, Admiral. Minsk's ecology can best be described as a layered deathtrap. And the half-giants themselves are extremely capable fighters.

 **Grindelwald.** So are the vampires. Now . . . what of Potter?

 **Ogden.** His vector away from Cornwall was consistent with a course toward Little Hangleton. Of course, he could easily have altered it once he was out of range of our probes.

 **Grindelwald.** _[smiles]_ He's going there. Our Auror Master has said so, hasn't he? We'll leave for Little Hangleton immediately. How much lead time will we have?

 **Ogden.** A minimum of four days, assuming that Potter's Firebolt hasn't been overly modified. More than that, depending on how many stopovers he has to make on the way.

 **Grindelwald.** He'll make no stopovers. Aurors use a hibernation state for trips of such length. For our purposes, though, four days will be quite adequate.

 _Grindelwald flips a switch and the images of the sculptures vanish._

We'll need two more broomships. An Anti-Disapparition Jinx to bring Potter out of Apparition where we want him, and some kind of freighter. An expendable one, preferably.

 **Ogden.** Expendable, sir?

 **Grindelwald.** Expendable, Captain. We're going to set up the attack as a pure accident, an opportunity that will seem to have arisen while we were investigating a suspicious freighter for Dumbledore's Army munitions. That way, you see, we retain the option of turning him over to Crouch if we choose to do so, without even Potter's realizing he was actually ambushed.

 **Ogden.** Understood, sir. With your permission, I'll get _Nurmengard_ underway.

 _Exit Ogden._


	28. The Escape

**Disclaimer: I am not George Lucas or J.K. Rowling.**

 _Mounted aboard his Firebolt, Harry and Hedwig are summoned by a Ministry cruiser, enchanted with an Anti-Disapparition Jinx, as well as the Ministry cruiser_ Nurmengard _. Sensing the problem, Harry awakes from his hibernation trance._

 **Harry.** _[to Hedwig]_ All right, Hedwig. I'm awake. _[notices the Ministry cruiser]_ Let's get out of here, Hedwig.

 **Bole's Voice.** _[over transmitter]_ Unidentified broom. This is the Ministry cruiser _Nurmengard_. Transmit your identification codes and state your business.

 **Harry.** _[aside]_ So much for hoping we wouldn't be noticed.

 _Harry turns and notices a nearby broom, evidently pulled out of Apparition with him, struggling to determine whether or not it is a Council broom._

Hedwig. Find me the nearest edge of that Anti-Disapparition Jinx's purview.

 **Bole's Voice.** _[over transmitter]_ Unidentified broom. I repeat, transmit your identification code or prepare to be detained.

 **Harry.** I should have brought one of Ron's false ID codes with me. _[to Hedwig]_ Hedwig? Where's that edge estimate?

 **Hedwig.** _[beeps]_

 _Hedwig displays her calculations over the computer._

 **Harry.** That far, eh? Well, nothing to do but go for it. Hang on.

 **Bole's Voice.** _[over transmitter]_ Unidentified broom . . .

 _Harry moves the Firebolt to full power._

 **Hedwig.** _[whistles]_

 **Harry.** No, I want the Shield Charms down. We need the extra speed.

 _As_ Nurmengard _advances on the nearby broom,_ _Harry glances at the computer, noticing he is still within range of the Summoning Charm._

Hedwig. I need a fast reprogramming on one of the proton torpedoes. I want to drop it at zero delta-v, then have it turn around and head straight aft. No sensors or homing codes, either. I want it to go out cold. Can you do that?

 **Hedwig.** Affirmative.

 **Harry.** Good. As soon as it's ready, give me a warning and then let it go.

 **Hedwig.** _[beeps]_

 _Harry fires the proton torpedo. Though he has gone cold, Harry, through the use of the Magic, is able to guide toward the nearby broom and detonate it. Through the chaos, Harry is able to navigate further from the Summoning Charm, almost out of range._

 _[beeps]_

 _Harry glances up and notices_ Nurmengard _turning fully on Harry, using its Anti-Disapparition Jinx on the Firebolt._

 **Harry.** I see it, Hedwig. _[aside]_ Typical Ministry tactic. _[to Hedwig]_ Hang on, Hedwig.

 _Harry navigates the Firebolt abruptly to the right, away from_ Nurmengard _._

 **Hedwig.** _[screeches]_

 **Harry.** Quiet, Hedwig. I know what I'm doing.

 _As Harry moves away from the Ministry cruiser,_ Nurmengard _begins firing on the Firebolt._

Shield Charms up, Hedwig. Give me a balance between shield power and speed.

 **Hedwig.** _[beeps]_

 _Shield Charms surround the Firebolt, causing the broom to slow. Regardless, Harry's maneuver has paid off, for the Ministry cruisers have been taken off guard and are only now trying to correct their mistake, giving Harry time to move away from the range of the Anti-Disapparition Jinx._

 **Harry.** Stand by for lightspeed. Don't worry about direction. We can do a short hop and set things up more carefully once we're clear.

 **Hedwig.** _[beeps]_

 _Harry's Firebolt is caught in_ Nurmengard _'s Summoning Charm, pulling them toward the Ministry party._

 _[shrills]_

 _Harry shuts down the Shield Charms and tries to fight off the Summoning Charm, to no avail._

 **Bole's Voice.** _[over transmitter]_ Unidentified broom. You have no chance of escape. Further efforts will merely damage your vehicle. You are ordered to power down and prepare to dock.

 **Harry.** _[sighs]_ Hedwig. We're going to try something tricky. On my signal, I want you to reverse-trigger the acceleration compensator, full power, and bypass the cutoffs if you have to. Hedwig . . . now.

 _Harry simultaneously lurches forward while firing a couple proton torpedoes. Taken aback, Bole inadvertently latches onto the proton torpedo, allowing Harry time to move out of range of the Summoning Charm._

We're free. Get ready for lightspeed.

 **Hedwig.** _[whistles]_

Nurmengard _turns all of its laser cannons on Harry's Firebolt. With the Magic as his ally, Harry lurches forward immediately, managing to just barely avoid the laser strike . . . and finally away from the purview of the Anti-Disapparition Jinx._

 **Harry.** Go.

 _Exit the Firebolt, into lightspeed._


	29. The Death of Lucian Bole

**Disclaimer: I am not George Lucas or J.K. Rowling.**

 _Aboard_ Nurmengard _, Grindelwald and Ogden stand on the bridge and watch Harry's Firebolt escape into Apparition._

 **Grindelwald.** Come with me, Captain.

 **Ogden.** Yes, sir.

 _Grindelwald and Ogden descend into the crew pit, where they discover Lucian Bole, the young man who runs the tractor beam._

 **Grindelwald.** Your name.

 **Bole.** Lucian Bole, sir.

 **Grindelwald.** You were in charge of the tractor beam during our engagement with the Firebolt.

 **Bole.** Yes, sir. But what happened wasn't my fault.

 **Grindelwald.** _[raises an eyebrow]_ Explain.

 _Bole initially moves to gesture toward Avery, his superior officer, but immediately changes his mind._

 **Bole.** The target did something with his acceleration compensator that killed his velocity vector . . .

 **Grindelwald.** I'm aware of the facts. I'm waiting to hear why his escape wasn't your fault.

 **Bole.** I was never properly trained for such an occurrence, sir. The computer lost the lock, but seemed to pick it up again right away. There was no way for me to know it had really picked up something else until . . .

 **Grindelwald.** Until the proton torpedoes detonated against the projector?

 **Bole.** Yes, sir.

 _Grindelwald studies Bole for a moment._

 **Grindelwald.** Who is your officer?

 **Bole.** Ensign Avery, sir.

 _Grindelwald turns toward Avery, standing to the side._

 **Grindelwald.** You are in charge of this man?

 **Avery.** Yes, sir.

 **Grindelwald.** Was his training also your responsibility?

 **Avery.** Yes, sir.

 **Grindelwald.** Did you, during that training, run through any scenarios similar to what just happened?

 **Avery.** I . . . don't remember, sir. The standard training package does include scenarios concerning loss of lock and subsequent reestablishment confirmation.

 _Grindelwald briefly glances at Bole._

 **Grindelwald.** Did you recruit him as well, Ensign?

 **Avery.** No, sir. He was a conscript.

 **Grindelwald.** Does that make him less worthy of your training time than a normal enlistee?

 **Avery.** No, sir. I've always tried to treat my subordinates equally.

 **Grindelwald.** I see.

 _Grindelwald frowns, then glances over Ogden's shoulder._

Sanguini.

 _Enter Sanguini._

 _[to Avery]_ Do you know the difference between an error and a mistake, Ensign?

 **Avery.** No, sir.

 **Grindelwald.** Anyone can make an error, Ensign. But that error doesn't become a mistake until you refuse to correct it.

 _Grindelwald indicates Bole; both for his ineptitude and for cowardly trying to pin the blame on Avery, Bole is killed by Sanguini._

 _Enter the Hit Wizards._

Dispose of it.

 _The Hit Wizards carry Bole's body away._

The error, Ensign, has now been corrected. You may begin training a replacement. _[to Ogden]_ I want a full technical/tactical readout on the last few seconds of that encounter, Captain. I'm particularly interested in his Apparition vector.

 **Derrick.** I have it all here, sir.

 _Derrick approaches Grindelwald and hands him a datacard._

 **Grindelwald.** Thank you. _[to Ogden]_ We'll have him, Captain. Very soon now, we'll have him.

 **Ogden.** Yes, sir. I'm sure it's just a matter of time.

 **Grindelwald.** _[raises an eyebrow]_ You misunderstand me. I mean that literally. He's out there right now, not very far away. And . . . he's helpless.

 **Ogden.** _[frowns]_ I don't understand, sir.

 **Grindelwald.** That maneuver he used has an interesting side effect I suspect he didn't know about. Backfiring an acceleration compensator like that does severe damage to the adjoining hyperdrive. A light year away, no farther, and it will fail completely. All we have to do is make a search along that vector or persuade others to do our searching for us, and he'll be ours. You follow?

 **Ogden.** Yes, sir. Shall I contact the rest of the fleet?

 **Grindelwald.** _[shakes his head]_ Preparing for the Nimbus attack is the fleet's top priority at the moment. No, I think we'll subcontract this one out. I want you to send messages to all the major smuggling chiefs whose groups operate in this area: Hodrod, Dumbledore, Pinkstone, any others we have on file. Use their private frequencies and encrypt codes . . . a little reminder of how much we know about each of them should help ensure their cooperation. Give them Potter's Apparition vector and offer a bounty of thirty thousand for his capture.

 **Ogden.** Yes, sir. _[hesitates]_ Sir, if you knew that Potter's escape was only temporary . . . ?

 **Grindelwald.** The Ministry is at war, Captain. We cannot afford the luxury of men whose minds are so limited they cannot adapt to unexpected situations.

 _Grindelwald briefly glances at Sanguini._

Carry out your orders, Captain. Potter will be ours . . . alive or otherwise.

 _Exit all._


	30. Stranded

**Disclaimer: I am not George Lucas or J.K. Rowling.**

 _Harry and Hedwig stand mounted on the Firebolt, stranded in the middle of no where._

 **Harry.** Hedwig. What have you got?

 **Hedwig.** _[moans]_

 **Harry.** That bad, huh?

 **Hedwig.** That maneuver not only damaged the hyperdrive, but the subspace radio has been knocked out.

 **Harry.** In other words, we can't leave, we aren't likely to be found, and we can't call for help. Does that about sum it up?

 **Hedwig.** _[beeps]_

 **Harry.** Right. And we can't stay here. Not for long, anyway. _[sighs]_ All right. Try this. We take the hyperdrive motivators off both engines and see if we can salvage enough components to put together a single functional one. If we can, we remount it somewhere in the middle of the aft fuselage where it can handle both engines. Maybe where the S-Foil servo actuator is now. We don't need that to get home. Possible?

 **Hedwig.** _[whistles]_

 **Harry.** I'm not asking if it will be easy, just if it would be possible.

 **Hedwig.** _[whistles]_

 **Harry.** Well, let's give it a try anyway.

 _Harry moves around on the Firebolt, reaching into the cargo compartment._

 **Hedwig.** _[whistles]_

 **Harry.** Don't worry. I'm not going to get stuck.

 _Harry retrieves his flight suit and places it on, gearing himself for vacuum._

If you want to be helpful, you might pull up the maintenance specs and find out exactly how I go about getting one of those motivators out. And cheer up, will you? You're starting to sound like Percy.

 **Hedwig.** _[whistles indignantly]_

 _After several hours, Harry finally manages to remove the hyperdrive motivator and analyze it._

 **Harry.** It's riddled with cracks. The whole shield casing. Just hairlines, really. You can barely see some of them. But they run most of the length of the sides.

 **Hedwig.** Meaning all we really have is a pile of spare parts.

 **Harry.** Let's not give up yet. If the other motivator's casing is all right, we may still be in business.

 _Harry looks through the cargo compartment, searching for ways to repair the hyperdrive . . . to no avail._

 _[sighs]_ For the Auror, there is no emotion; there is peace. _[to Hedwig]_ I'm coming in, Hedwig. While you're waiting, I want you to pull everything we've got on the subspace radio antenna.

 _Harry and Hedwig examine the subspace radio antenna._

All right. Here's what we're going to do. The antenna's outer wiring is useless. But it doesn't look like the core itself was damaged. If we can find ten kilometers of superconducting wire somewhere else on the ship, we should be able to make ourselves a new one. Right?

 **Hedwig.** _[whistles]_

 **Harry.** Oh, come on now. You mean to tell me you can't do what some nonintelligent wire-wrapping machine does all day?

 **Hedwig.** _[whistles indignantly]_

 **Harry.** Well, then, there's no problem. I'd guess either the repulsorlift drive or else the sensor jammer will have all the wire we need. Check on that, will you?

 **Hedwig.** _[whistles]_

 **Harry.** Yes, I know what the life support's limitations are. That's why you'll be the one doing all the wiring. I'm going to have to spend most of the time back in hibernation trance.

 **Hedwig.** _[whistles]_

 **Harry.** Don't worry about it. As long as I come up every few days for food and water, hibernation is perfectly safe. You've seen me do it a dozen times, remember? Now get busy and run those checks.

 _Harry strips the antenna from the sensor jammer, hoping Hedwig would be able to use it to create a rudimentary antenna for the radio._

Now don't forget. If anything goes wrong, or you even think something's about to go wrong, you go ahead and wake me up. Got that?

 **Hedwig.** Of course.

 **Harry.** All right. I guess this is it, then.

 _As Harry succumbs to a dreamless sleep, he using Legilimency to contact Hermione through the Magic._

 _[via Legilimency]_ Hermione. Hermione . . .

 _Little did he know, but his contact is felt by Hermione, miles away in Minsk._

 _Exit all._


	31. Minsk

**Disclaimer: I am not George Lucas or J.K. Rowling.**

 _Enter Hermione, awaking on the_ Felix _Felicis, sensing Harry's call._

 **Hermione.** Harry?

 _Hermione looks around, but sees no one._

 _Enter Hagrid, as the_ Felix Felicis _approaches Minsk._

 _As they fly through, Hermione analyzes the towering trees._

Is that size typical for wroshyr trees?

 **Hagrid.** No. The ones visible above the clouds are probably half a kilometer taller than the average.

 **Hermione.** They're the ones you put nursery rings on, then.

 _Hagrid glances at Hermione, shocked._

Don't look so shocked. Some of us humans know a little about half-giant culture. We aren't all ignorant savages, you know.

 _Hagrid laughs._

 _Hagrid lands the_ Felix Felicis _in Minsk's capital city._

 _Deboarding the_ Felix Felicis _, Hermione stares at the half-giant village in shock. Hagrid watches her, amused._

 **Hagrid.** Raarrghh-arroo?

 **Hermione.** No, I've never even seen photos of a half-giant village. My loss, obviously.

 _Enter Grawp and Fang, two half-giants._

 _Grawp bows to Hermione._

 **Grawp.** I to you, Hermione Granger Weasley, bring greetings. I to Minsk welcome you.

 **Hermione.** _[surprised]_ Ah . . . thank you. I'm . . . honored to be here.

 **Grawp.** As we by your presence are honored. I am Grawp.

 **Hermione.** I'm honored to meet you. _[smiles at Hagrid]_ Let me guess. You've had a speech impediment all these years and never thought to mention it to me?

 _Hagrid laughs._

 **Grawp.** Rubeus speaks most excellently. It is I who has a speech impediment. Strangely, it is the kind of trouble that humans find easier to understand.

 **Hermione.** I see. Were you an ambassador, then?

 **Grawp.** I was a slave to the Ministry, as was Rubeus also before Ron Weasley freed him. My captors found me useful . . . to speak with the other half-giant slaves.

 **Hermione.** I'm sorry.

 **Grawp.** You must not be. My role gave me much information about the Ministry's forces, information that proved useful when your Army freed us.

 _Hagrid and Fang wrestle._

 _Shocked, Hermione reaches for her rifle._

 **Hermione.** Hagrid . . .

 **Grawp.** _[shakes his head]_ Do not disturb them. Rubeus and Fang have been friends since childhood and have not seen each other in many years. Their greeting must not be interrupted.

 **Hermione.** Sorry.

 _Hermione puts away her rifle._

 **Grawp.** Rubeus said in his message that you requirre sanctuary. Come. I will show you the preparations we have made.

 _Hermione glances at Hagrid and Fang._

 **Hermione.** Perhaps we should wait for the others.

 **Grawp.** There will be no danger. Hermione Granger Weasley, you must understand. Without you and your people, many of us would still be slaves to the Ministry . . . slaves or dead at their hand. To you and your Council, we owe a life debt.

 **Hermione.** Thank you.

 **Grawp.** Come. We will go to the village.

 **Hermione.** Certainly. That reminds me . . . I was going to ask how you keep the village in place. Do you use repulsorlifts?

 **Grawp.** Come. I will show you.

 _Grawp leads Hermione away and shows her that the village is, in fact, held up by branches._

It was a great task, a village of this size, to build. Many of the branches at the level desired were removed. Those which remained then grew strongerr and faster.

 **Hermione.** It looks almost like a giant spiderweb. How did you mesh them together like that?

 **Grawp.** We did not. Through their own growth, they are a unity.

 **Hermione.** Excuse me?

 **Grawp.** They have grown together. When two Minsk branches meet, they grow into one. Together then they sprout new branches in all directions. It is a living reminder of the unity and strength of the half-giants.

 _Hermione nods._

 _Grawp indicates the clabberts which navigate through the trees._

They arre called clabberts.

 **Hermione.** _[frowns]_ Those creatures?

 **Grawp.** Yes. Once they were a prize food to the half-giants. Now even the poor may eat them.

 _Grawp indicates nearby lights._

Clabberts will come to those lights. Hunters there await them.

 _Hermione nods._

 **Hermione.** Don't all those clouds interfere with their effectiveness, though?

 **Grawp.** Through the clouds they work best. The clouds spread the light. A clabbert will see it from great distances and come. Even so, you see. Tonight we shall perhaps dine on one of them.

 **Hermione.** I'd like that. I remember Hagrid's saying once that they were delicious.

 **Grawp.** Then we must return to the village. We had hoped to shelter you in one of the more luxurious homes. But Rubeus would not allow it.

 **Hermione.** Rubeus understands my preferences. I was wondering why the liftcar went this far down past the village proper.

 **Grawp.** The liftcar is used mainly for cargo transportation or the ill. Most half-giants prefer to climb the trees naturally.

 _Grawp holds out his hand, revealing his sharp claws._

 **Hermione.** _[surprised]_ I didn't realize half-giants had claws like those. Though I suppose I should have. You are arboreal, after all.

 **Grawp.** To live among trees without them would be impossible. Even vine travel would be difficult without them.

 **Hermione.** Vines?

 _Hermione notices the liftcar they have been navigating in is run by vines._

That cable? That's a vine?

 **Grawp.** It a half-giant vine is. Do not worry about its strength. It is stronger than composite cable material and cannot even by rifles be cut. Too, it is self-repairing.

 **Hermione.** _[uncomfortable]_ I see. Have the vines ever broken?

 **Grawp.** In the past, it sometimes happened. Various parasites and fungi, if unchecked, can erode them. Now, we employ safeguards which our ancestors did not have. Liftcars such as this one contain emergency repulsorlift systems.

 **Hermione.** Ah.

 _Hermione and Grawp return to the village, where they discover Hagrid and Fang waiting for them._

 **Grawp.** We have made arrangements for you and Rubeus to stay at Fang's home. It is not far. There are transports available, if you wish.

 **Hermione.** A transport would probably be best.

 **Hagrid.** Rarrrgh?

 **Grawp.** She wished to see the village's structure. We are now ready to go.

 _Hermione and the half-giants mount a broom, which takes them toward Fang's home. As they move onward, Hermione notices the face of a vampire assassin out of the corner of her eye._

 **Hermione.** Hagrid.

 _Hagrid comes to Hermione's side, crossbow in hand._

One of those creatures who attacked us in Nottingham is in there . . . at the window. He was right there.

 **Hagrid.** _[to Grawp and Fang]_ Rrrarrghh.

 _As secured with his broom, he, Hagrid, and Grawp depart and gather a search party of half-giants. Eventually, they return, having not discovered the vampire._

 **Hermione.** He was there. I saw him.

 **Grawp.** That may be true. But we found no trace of anyone.

 _Hermione glances around._

 **Hermione.** He went over the edge. He must have . . . either worked his way under the village with climbing gear or else met a craft hovering down below.

 **Grawp.** That is unlikely. But possible. I will go down the liftcar, to try and discover him.

 _Hagrid restrains Grawp with his hand._

 **Hagrid.** No, it is the Princess's safety that matters the most.

 **Grawp.** _[reluctant]_ You are right. Your safety, Hermione Granger Weasley, is the most important thing at this point. We will take you to safety first and then make inquiries about this creature.

 _The half-giants lead Hermione into Fang's home, securing her safely inside._

 _Exit all._


	32. Aberforth Dumbledore

**Disclaimer: I am not George Lucas or J.K. Rowling.**

 _Still stranded, Harry awakes from his hibernation trance at a call from Hedwig._

 **Harry.** All right, Hedwig. I'm awake. What seems to be the matter?

 _Harry glances over and notices the arrival of the_ Hog's Head _._

 _While activating the Firebolt's engines, Harry reaches into the Magic to the test the_ Hog's Head _'s crew._

 **Hedwig.** _[whistles]_

 **Harry.** Yes, I noticed that, too. But a normal bulk freighter might be able to pull that kind of deceleration if it was empty. Why don't you do a quick analysis of the sensor readings, see if you can spot any weapons emplacements.

 **Hedwig.** _[beeps]_

 _Harry flips on the transmitter._

 **Ginny's Voice.**. . . need assistance? Repeating: unidentified Firebolt, this is the freighter _Hog's Head_. Do you need assistance?

 **Harry.** _Hog's Head_. This is a Wizards' Council Firebolt 777. As a matter of fact, yes, I could use some help.

 **Ginny's Voice.** Acknowledged, Firebolt. What seems to be the problem?

 **Harry.** Hyperdrive. I've lost both motivators. Cracked shield cases, probably some other problems, too. I don't suppose you'd be carrying any spares?

 **Ginny's Voice.** Not for a broom that size. I'm instructed to tell you that if you'd care to come aboard, we can offer you passage to our destination region.

 _Harry reaches out into the Magic to detect Ginny's motives, to no avail._

 **Harry.** Sounds good. Any chance you could take my broom, too?

 **Ginny's Voice.** _[dry]_ I doubt you could afford our shipping rates. I'll check with the captain, but don't get your hopes up. We would have to take it in tow, anyway. Our holds are pretty full at the moment. If you'll hold your present position, Firebolt, we'll move up close enough to throw a force cylinder out to you . . . unless you'd rather suit up and spacewalk across.

 **Harry.** The cylinder sounds fastest. I don't suppose either of us has any reason to hang around this place. How did you happen to wind up out here, anyway?

 **Ginny's Voice.** We can handle a limited amount of baggage. I imagine you'll want to bring your messenger droid along, too.

 **Harry.** Yes, I will.

 **Ginny's Voice.** All right, then, stand by. Incidentally, the captain says the transport fee will be five thousand.

 **Harry.** Understood.

 _Harry dons his flight suit, preparing himself for vacuum._

 **Hedwig.** _[whistles]_

 **Harry.** No, she didn't answer the question. But I can't think of any legitimate reason for them to be out this far. Can you?

 **Hedwig.** _[whistles]_

 **Harry.** Agreed. But refusing the offer doesn't buy us anything at all. We'll just have to stay alert.

 _Harry clips his rifle, his transmitter, and his lightwand to his belt._

 **Ginny's Voice.** Okay, Firebolt, we've got the cylinder established. Whenever you're ready.

 _The_ Hog's Head _turns its docking bay toward the Firebolt._

 **Harry.** Here we go, Hedwig.

 _Harry and Hedwig dismount the Firebolt and navigate toward the_ Hog's Head _._

 **Hedwig.** _[whistles]_

 **Harry.** I've got you, Hedwig.

 _Harry lands on the_ Hog's Head _, using the Magic to ensure that Hedwig follows him. The airlock seals shut behind them._

 _Enter Goldstein._

 **Goldstein.** Welcome aboard the _Hog's Head_. If you'll follow me, the captain would like to see you.

 _Goldstein leads Harry down the corridor._

 **Harry.** Come on, Hedwig.

 _Goldstein leads Harry and Hedwig to the door to Aberforth's quarters._

 **Goldstein.** Captain Dumbledore will see you now.

 **Harry.** Thank you.

 _Exit Goldstein._

 _Harry and Hedwig step into the room._

 _Enter Aberforth._

 **Aberforth.** Good evening. I'm Aberforth Dumbledore. And you, I presume, are Commander Harry Potter.

 **Harry.** Private citizen Potter. I resigned my Army commission nearly four years ago.

 **Aberforth.** _[smiles]_ I stand corrected. I must say you've certainly found a good place to get away from it all.

 **Harry.** I had some help choosing it. A small run-in with a Ministry cruiser about half a light year away.

 **Aberforth.** Ah. Yes, the Ministry is still quite active in this part of the galaxy. Growing more so, too, particularly of late. _[shakes his head]_ Though I presume you've already noticed that. Incidentally, it looks like we'll be able to take your broom in tow, after all. I'm having the cables rigged now.

 **Harry.** Thank you. Allow me to thank you for the rescue, as well. Hedwig and I are lucky you happened along.

 **Aberforth.** And Hedwig is . . . ? Oh, of course, your messenger droid. You must be a formidable warrior indeed, Potter. Escaping from a Ministry cruiser is no mean trick. Though I imagine a man like yourself is accustomed to giving the Ministry trouble.

 **Harry.** I don't see much front-line action anymore. You haven't told me how you came to be out here, Captain. Or, for that matter, how you knew who I was.

 **Aberforth.** _[smiles]_ With a lightwand attached to your belt? Come now. You were either Harry Potter, Auror, or else someone with a taste for antiques and an insufferably high opinion of his swordsmanship. You're not really what I expected, somehow. Though I suppose that's not all that surprising. The vast majority of Auror lore has been so twisted by myth and ignorance that to get a clear picture is almost impossible.

 **Harry.** You almost sound as if you were expecting to find me here.

 **Aberforth.** As a matter of fact, we were. Though I can't actually take any of the credit for that. It was one of my associates, Ginny Weasley, who led us here. She's on the bridge at the moment.

 _Harry reaches out in the Magic and detects Ginny on the bridge, sensing her cold hatred toward him. His reaction is noticeable on his face._

Yes, that's her. She hides it quite well, actually . . . though not, I suppose, from an Auror. It took me several months of careful observation to establish that it was you, and you personally, for whom she had these feelings.

 **Harry.** I've never met her before.

 **Aberforth.** No? _[shrugs]_ A pity. I was rather hoping you'd be able to tell me why she feels this way. Ah, well.

 _Aberforth rises to his feet._

I suppose, then, there's nothing more for us to talk about for the moment . . . and let me say in advance that I'm very sorry it has to be this way.

 _Harry reaches for his lightwand, but is struck from behind by one of Aberforth's agents. Stunned, Harry succumbs to unconsciousness, weakened mainly due to the close proximity of the hinkypunks._

 _Exit all._


	33. Hinkypunks

**Disclaimer: I am not George Lucas or J.K. Rowling.**

 _Harry sits alone in his cell at Aberforth's headquarters on the Isle of Drear_ _, recovering from the effects of a stun weapon, as well as the drugs of which he has been injected with._

 _Enter Ginny._

 **Ginny.** Finally awake, are you?

 _Harry tries to use the Magic, only to discover that he is unable to sense anything about Ginny. In fact, he is unable to sense anyone anywhere. He has been completely cut off from the Magic._

That's right. Welcome back to the world of mere mortals. Don't like it, do you? It's not easy to suddenly lose everything that once made you special, is it?

 _Harry rises._

If the purpose of all this activity is to impress me with your remarkable powers of recuperation, you don't need to bother.

 **Harry.** Nothing so devious. The purpose of all this activity is to get me back on my feet. _[studies Ginny]_ Don't tell me. Let me guess. You're Ginny Weasley.

 **Ginny.** That doesn't impress me, either. Aberforth already told me he'd mentioned my name to you.

 **Harry.** _[nods]_ He also told me that you were the one who found my Firebolt. Thank you.

 **Ginny.** _[glares at him]_ Save your gratitude. As far as I'm concerned, the only question left is whether we turn you over to the Ministry or kill you ourselves.

 _Ginny rises, her rifle ready._

On your feet. Aberforth wants to see you.

 _As Harry stands, he notices that his lightwand is clipped to Ginny's belt._

 **Harry.** I can't say that either of those options sounds appealing.

 **Ginny.** There's one other one. You try to escape . . . and I kill you right here and now. Move. Aberforth's waiting.

 _Ginny leads Harry out of his cell and toward Aberforth's quarters._

He's in the great room. Straight ahead.

 _Ginny ushers Harry inside Aberforth's quarters._

 _Enter Aberforth, flanked by MacBoon and Quintius._

 **Aberforth.** Ah, Potter. Come and join me.

 _Harry approaches Aberforth._

Welcome back to the land of the living. I must apologize for having kept you asleep all this time. But I'm sure you appreciate the special problems involved in making sure an Auror stays where you've put him.

 **Harry.** Of course. Though if you'd just asked nicely, you might have found me quite willing to cooperate.

 **Aberforth.** _[smiles]_ Perhaps. Perhaps not. Please sit down.

 _As Harry steps forward, MacBoon growls._

Easy, MacBoon. This man is our guest.

 _MacBoon ignores Aberforth, his attention on Harry._

 **Harry.** I don't think it believes you.

 _Quintius growls._

 **Aberforth.** Perhaps not.

 _Aberforth glances around the room._

Borgin. Come and take them out, will you?

 _Enter Borgin._

 **Borgin.** Sure. _[to the Quintapeds]_ Come on, fellows. How about we go for a walk, huh?

 _Exit Borgin and the Quintapeds._

 **Aberforth.** My apologies, Potter. They're usually better behaved than that with guests. Now . . . please sit down.

 _Harry sits and accepts a cup of butterbeer from Aberforth._

It's just a mild stimulant, something to help you wake up.

 _Harry drinks._

 **Harry.** Would you mind telling me where my droid is?

 **Aberforth.** Oh, she's perfectly all right. I have her in one of my equipment sheds for safekeeping.

 **Harry.** I'd like to see her, if I may.

 **Aberforth.** I'm sure that can be arranged. But later. Perhaps after we've figured out just exactly what we're going to do with you.

 _Harry glances at Ginny._

 **Harry.** Your associate mentioned the possibilities. I'd hoped I could add another to the list.

 **Aberforth.** That we send you back home?

 **Harry.** With due compensation, of course. Say, double whatever the Ministry would offer?

 **Aberforth.** You're very generous with other people's money. The problem, unfortunately, doesn't arise from gold, but from politics. Our operations, you see, extend rather deeply into both Ministry and Council space. If the Ministry discovered we'd released you back to the Council, they would be highly displeased with us.

 **Harry.** And vice versa if you turned me over to the Ministry.

 **Aberforth.** True. Except that given the damage to your Firebolt's radio, the Council presumably has no idea what happened to you. The Ministry, unfortunately, does.

 **Ginny.** And it's not what they would offer. It's what they _have_ offered. Thirty thousand.

 **Harry.** I had no idea I was so valuable.

 **Aberforth.** You could be the difference between solvency and failure for any number of marginal operators. There are probably dozens of brooms out there right now, ignoring schedules and prior commitments to hunt for you. _[smiles]_ Operators who haven't given even a moment of consideration to how they would hold onto an Auror even if they caught one.

 **Harry.** Your method seems to work pretty well. I don't suppose you'd be willing to tell me how you've managed it.

 **Aberforth.** _[smiles]_ Secrets of that magnitude are worth a great deal of gold. Have you any secrets of equal value to trade?

 **Harry.** Probably not. But again, I'm sure the Wizards' Council would be willing to pay market value.

 _Aberforth drinks._

 **Aberforth.** I'll make you a deal. You tell me why the Ministry is suddenly so interested in you, and I'll tell you why your Auror powers aren't working.

 **Harry.** Why don't you ask the Ministry directly?

 **Aberforth.** _[smiles]_ Thank you, but no. I'd just as soon not have them start wondering at my sudden interest . . . particularly after we pleaded prior commitments when the request came in for us to help hunt you down.

 **Harry.** _[frowns]_ You weren't hunting for me?

 **Aberforth.** No, we weren't. One of those little ironies that make life so interesting. We were simply returning from a cargo pickup when Ginny dropped us out of Apparition on the spur of the moment to do a nav reading.

 _Harry studies Ginny's face._

 **Harry.** How fortunate for you.

 **Aberforth.** Perhaps. The net result, though, was to put us in the middle of the exact situation that I'd hoped to avoid.

 **Harry.** Then let me go and pretend none of this happened. I give you my word I'll keep your part in it quiet.

 **Aberforth.** The Ministry would find out anyway. Their new commander is extremely good at piecing bits of information together. No, I think your best hope right now is for us to find a compromise. Some way we can let you go while still giving the Ministry what they want . . . which leads us back to my original question.

 **Harry.** And from there back to my original answer. I really don't know what the Ministry wants with me. _[hesitates]_ I can tell you, though, that it's not just me. There have been two attempts on my sister Hermione, too.

 **Aberforth.** Killing attempts?

 **Harry.** I don't think so. The one I was present for felt more like a kidnapping.

 **Aberforth.** Interesting. Hermione Granger Weasley, who is in training to be an Auror like her brother. That could explain . . . certain recent Ministry actions.

 _Silence._

 **Harry.** You spoke of a compromise.

 **Aberforth.** Yes, I did. It's occurred to me that your privileged position in the Wizards' Council might be what the Ministry was interested in, that they wanted information on the inner workings of the Wizengamot. In such a case, we might have been able to work out a deal whereby you went free while your snowy droid went to the Ministry for debriefing.

 **Harry.** It wouldn't do them any good. Hedwig has never been to any of the Wizengamot meetings.

 **Aberforth.** But she does have a great deal of knowledge of you personally. As well as of your sister, her husband, and various other highly placed members of the Wizards' Council. It's a moot question now, of course. The fact that the focus is exclusively on the Wizards' Council's Aurors and potential Aurors means they're not simply after information. Where did these two attacks take place?

 **Harry.** The first was in Nottingham, the second in Avalon.

 **Aberforth.** _[nods]_ We've got a contact in Avalon. Perhaps we can get him to do some backtracking on the Ministry. Until then, I'm afraid you'll have to remain here as our guest.

 **Harry.** Let me just point out one other thing before I go. No matter what happens to me - or what happens to Hermione, for that matter - the Ministry is still doomed. There are more regions in the Wizards' Council now than there are under Ministry rule, and that number increases daily. We'll win eventually, if only by sheer weight of numbers.

 **Aberforth.** I understand that was the Dark Lord's own argument when discussing your Army. Still, that is the crux of the dilemma, isn't it? While the Ministry will wreak swift retribution on me if I don't give you over to them, the Wizards' Council looks more likely to win out in the long run.

 **Ginny.** _[contemptuous]_ Only if he and his sister are there to hold Millicent Bagnold's hand. If they aren't . . .

 **Aberforth.** If they aren't, the final time frame is somewhat less clear. At any rate, I thank you for your time, Potter. I hope we can come to a decision without too much of a delay.

 **Harry.** Don't hurry on my account. This seems a pleasant enough region to spend a few days in.

 **Aberforth.** Don't believe it for a moment. My two pet Quintapeds have a large number of relatives out in the forest. Relatives who haven't had the benefits of modern domestication.

 **Harry.** I understand.

 **Aberforth.** And don't count on your Auror skills to protect you, either. You'll be just as helpless in the forest, probably more so. There are, after all, considerably more hinkypunks out there than there are here.

 _Harry glances at the tree behind Aberforth, in which a hinkypunk is perched atop._

 **Harry.** Hinkypunks? What is it?

 **Aberforth.** The reason you're staying where we put you. They seem to have the unusual ability to push back the Magic, to create bubbles, so to speak, where the Magic simply doesn't exist.

 **Harry.** I've never heard of them.

 **Aberforth.** Not very many have. And in the past, most of those who did had a vested interest in keeping it that way. The Aurors of the Old Ministry avoided the region, for obvious reasons, which was why a fair number of smuggling groups back then had their bases here. After the Dark Lord destroyed the Aurors, most of the groups pulled up roots and left, preferring to be closer to their potential markets. Now that the Aurors are rising again . . . perhaps some of them will return. Though I dare say the general populace would probably not appreciate that.

 _Harry studies the tree, noticing more hinkypunks with the first._

 **Harry.** What makes you think it's the hinkypunks and not something else that's responsible for this bubbling in the Magic?

 **Aberforth.** Partly local legend. Mainly, the fact that you're standing here talking with me. How else could a man with a stun weapon and an extremely nervous mind have walked right up behind an Auror without being noticed?

 **Harry.** You had hinkypunks aboard the _Hog's Head_.

 **Aberforth.** Correct. Purely by chance, actually. Well . . . perhaps not entirely by chance.

 _Aberforth glances at Ginny._

 **Harry.** How far does this bubbling extend?

 **Aberforth.** Actually, I'm not sure anyone knows. Legend says that individual hinkypunk have bubbles from one to ten meters in radius, but that groups of them together have considerably larger ones. Some sort of reinforcement, I gather. Perhaps you'll do us the courtesy of participating in a few experiments regarding them before you leave.

 **Harry.** Perhaps. Though that probably depends on which direction I'm headed at the time.

 **Aberforth.** It probably will. Well, I imagine you'd like to get cleaned up. You've been living in that flight suit for several days now. Did you bring any changes of clothing with you?

 **Harry.** There's a small case in the cargo compartment of my Firebolt. Thank you for bringing it along, incidentally.

 **Aberforth.** I try never to waste anything that may someday prove useful. I'll have your things sent over as soon as my associates have determined that there are no hidden weapons or other equipment among them. _[smiles]_ I doubt that an Auror would bother with such things, but I believe in being thorough. Good evening, Potter.

 _Ginny retrieves her rifle._

 **Ginny.** Let's go.

 **Harry.** _[rises]_ Let me offer you one other option. If you decide you'd rather pretend none of this ever happened, you could just return Hedwig and me to where you found us. I'd be willing to take my chances with the other searchers.

 **Aberforth.** Including the Ministry?

 **Harry.** Including the Ministry.

 **Aberforth.** _[smiles]_ You might be surprised. But I'll keep the option in mind.

 _Harry and Ginny depart from Aberforth's quarters._

 _Exit Aberforth._

 _Ginny leads Harry back toward his cell._

 **Harry.** Did I miss dinner?

 **Ginny.** _[snarls]_ Something can be brought to you.

 **Harry.** Thank you. I don't know why you dislike me so much . . .

 **Ginny.** Shut up. Just shut up.

 _Ginny shoves Harry into his cell._

We don't have any lock for the window. But there's an alarm on it. You try going out, and it'll be a toss-up as to whether the Quintapeds get to you before I do. _[smiles]_ But don't take my word for it. Try it and find out.

 **Harry.** I'll pass, thanks.

 _Ginny departs from the cell, sealing Harry inside._

 _Exit all._


	34. Ron and Parvati's Fears

**Disclaimer: I am not George Lucas or J.K. Rowling.**

 _In Norfolk, Ron, Dean, and Percy stand in the_ Ford Anglia, _communicating with Parvati Patil._

 **Percy.** _[in Hermione's voice]_ No, I assure you. Everything is fine. Ron and I decided that as long as we were out this way we might as well take a look around the East of England.

 **Parvati's Voice.** I understand, Your Highness. May I recommend, though, that you don't stay away too much longer.

 **Percy.** _[in Hermione's voice]_ We'll be back soon. I just want to check out the nogtails' malfunctioning infrastructure.

 **Parvati's Voice.** Yes, Your Highness. I'll pass that information on to the Wizengamot. I'm sure they'll be pleased to hear it. I wonder if I might be permitted to speak with Captain Weasley for a moment.

 _Dean grimaces._

 **Dean.** _[aside, to Ron]_ She knows.

 **Ron.** _[aside, to Dean]_ No kidding.

 _Ron nods at Percy._

 **Percy.** _[in Hermione's voice]_ Of course. Ron . . . ?

 _Ron takes control of the transmitter._

 **Ron.** I'm here, Parvati. What's up?

 **Parvati's Voice.** I wanted to know if you had any idea yet when you and Princess Hermione would be returning. Admiral Murcus, particularly, has been asking about you.

 **Ron.** _[frowns]_ You'll have to thank the Admiral for his interest. I trust he's doing all right himself?

 **Parvati's Voice.** About as usual. He's having some problems with his family, though, now that school is in full swing.

 **Ron.** A little squabbling among the children?

 **Parvati's Voice.** Bedtime arguments, mainly. Problems with the little one over who's going to get to stay up and read - that sort of thing. You understand.

 **Ron.** Yeah. I know the kids pretty well. How about the neighbors? He still having trouble with them?

 **Parvati's Voice.** _[pauses]_ I'm . . . not exactly sure. He hasn't mentioned anything about them to me. I can ask, if you'd like.

 **Ron.** It's no big deal. As long as the family's doing okay . . . That's the important thing.

 **Parvati's Voice.** I agree. At any rate, I think he mainly just wanted to be remembered to you.

 **Ron.** Thanks for passing on the message. Go ahead and tell him that we won't be out here too much longer. We'll go to Norfolk and maybe look in on a couple of others and then head back.

 **Parvati's Voice.** All right. Anything else?

 **Ron.** No . . . yes. What's the latest on the Avalon recovery program?

 **Parvati's Voice.** Those three regions the Ministry hit?

 **Ron.** Right.

 **Parvati's Voice.** Let me call up the proper file. . . . It's coming along reasonably well. There were some problems with supply shipments. But the material seems to be moving well enough now.

 **Ron.** _[frowns]_ What did Murcus do, dig up some mothballed container ships from somewhere?

 **Parvati's Voice.** Actually, he made his own. He's taken some capital ships, cut the crews back to skeleton size and put in extra droids, and turned them into cargo ships.

 **Ron.** I hope he's got some good escorts along with them. Empty star cruisers would make great target practice for the Ministry.

 **Parvati's Voice.** I'm sure he's thought of that. And the orbit dock and broom company at Nimbus are very well defended.

 **Ron.** I'm not sure anything's really well defended these days. Not with the Ministry's running loose like this. Anyway . . . got to go. Talk to you later.

 **Parvati's Voice.** Enjoy your trip. Your Highness? Goodbye.

 _Dean snaps his fingers at Percy._

 **Percy.** _[in Hermione's voice]_ Goodbye, Parvati.

 _Dean breaks the connection._

 **Dean.** If those star cruisers had been built with proper slave circuits, they wouldn't have to load them with droids to make container ships out of them.

 **Ron.** Yeah. Come on. We've got to cut this short and get back. Something's about to burn through in London.

 **Dean.** You mean all that stuff about Murcus's family?

 **Ron.** Right. If I'm reading Parvati right, it sounds like Scrimgeour has started a major push toward Murcus's territory. _[to Percy]_ Come on, Percy. You need to lock up behind us.

 **Percy.** _[in Hermione's voice]_ Captain Weasley. I must once again protest this whole arrangement. I really feel that to impersonate Princess Hermione . . .

 _Ron, Dean, and Percy head toward the exit._

 **Ron.** All right, all right. As soon as we get back, I'll have Dean undo the programming.

 **Dean.** It's over already? I thought you told Parvati . . .

 **Ron.** That was for the benefit of anyone tapping in. As soon as we've worked through this contact, we're going to head back. Maybe even stop by Minsk on the way and pick up Hermione.

 **Dean.** That bad, huh?

 **Ron.** It's hard to say, exactly. That "staying up late to read" is the part I don't understand. I suppose it could mean some of the intelligence work that Murcus has been doing along with the Supreme Commander position. Or worse, maybe Scrimgeour is going for the whole jackpot.

 **Dean.** You and Parvati should have worked out a better verbal code.

 **Ron.** We should have worked out a verbal code, period. I've been meaning for three years to sit down with her and Hermione and set one up. Never got around to it.

 **Dean.** Well, if it helps, the analysis makes sense. It fits the rumors I've heard, anyway. I take it the neighbors you referred to are the Ministry?

 **Ron.** Right. Parvati should have heard something about it if Murcus had had any luck plugging the security leaks.

 **Dean.** Won't that make it dangerous to go back, then?

 **Ron.** Yeah. But we're going to have to risk it. Without Hermione there to play peacemaker, Scrimgeour might just be able to beg or bully the rest of the Wizengamot into giving him whatever it is he wants.

 **Dean.** Hmm. Let's hope this is the last contact in the line.

 **Ron.** Let's hope first that the guy shows.

 _Ron and Dean deboard the_ Ford Anglia _and step onto the Norfolk spaceport. Percy seals the exit behind them._

 _Exit all._


	35. Ritchie Coote

**Disclaimer: I am not George Lucas or J.K. Rowling.**

 _Enter Ron and Dean, in Norfolk._

 _Ron and Dean step inside a nearby pub._

 **Dean.** I think I see the bar up there, just back of the Exploding Snap tables to the left. That's probably where he wants us.

 **Ron.** You ever been here before?

 _Ron and Dean head toward the bar._

 **Dean.** Not this place, no. Last time I was at Norfolk was years ago. It was worse than Diagon Alley, and I didn't stay long. _[shakes his head]_ Whatever problems you might have with the new government here, you have to admit they have done a good job of cleaning the region up.

 **Ron.** Yeah, well, whatever problems you have with the new government, let's keep them quiet, okay? Just for once, I'd like to keep a low profile.

 **Dean.** _[laughs]_ Whatever you say.

 _Enter Daisy Dodderidge._

 **Daisy.** Good day, gentles. How may I serve?

 **Dean.** Do you have any elf-made wine?

 **Daisy.** We do, indeed: '47, '49, '50, and '52.

 **Dean.** We'll have a half carafe of the '49.

 **Daisy.** Thank you, gentles.

 _Exit Daisy._

 **Ron.** Was that part of the countersign?

 **Dean.** Actually, he didn't say anything about what we should order. But since I happen to like a good elf-made wine . . .

 **Ron.** And since London will be picking up the tab for it?

 **Dean.** Something like that.

 _Enter Daisy, serving Ron and Dean glasses of elf-made wine._

 **Daisy.** Will there be anything else, gentles?

 **Dean.** _[shakes his head]_ Not right now, thank you.

 **Daisy.** Thank you.

 _Exit Daisy._

 **Dean.** So . . . I guess we wait.

 **Ron.** Well, while you're busy waiting, do a casual one-eighty. Third Exploding Snap table back - five men and a woman. Tell me if the guy second from the right is who I think it is.

 _Dean glances over at the aforementioned table, where he sees Ritchie Coote sitting among four men and a woman._

 **Dean.** Not Ritchie Coote?

 **Ron.** Sure looks like him to me. I figured you'd probably seen him more recently than I have.

 **Dean.** Not since the last Azkaban Run you and I did together . . . just before that other big Exploding Snap table.

 **Ron.** You're not still sore about the _Anglia_ , are you?

 **Dean.** Now . . . No, probably not. No sorer than I was at losing the game to an amateur like you in the first place.

 **Ron.** Amateur?

 **Dean.** But I'll admit there were times right afterward when I lay awake at night plotting elaborate revenge. Good thing I never got around to doing any of it.

 **Ron.** If it makes you feel any better . . . if you hadn't lost the _Anglia_ to me, we probably wouldn't be sitting here right now. The Ministry's first Dark Mark would have taken out Hogwarts and then picked the DA apart region by region. And that would have been the end of it.

 **Dean.** _[shrugs]_ Maybe. Maybe not. With people like Murcus and Hermione running things . . .

 **Ron.** Hermione would have been dead. She was already slated for execution when Harry, Hagrid, and I pulled her out of the Dark Mark. _[shivers]_ I was that close to losing her, and I never would have known what I'd missed. _[aside]_ And now that I know . . . I might still lose her.

 **Dean.** She'll be okay, Ron. Don't worry. I just wish we knew what the Ministry wanted with her.

 **Ron.** I know what they want. They want the twins.

 **Dean.** Are you sure?

 **Ron.** As sure as I am of any of this. Why else didn't they just use stun weapons on us in that Avalon ambush? Because the things have a better than fifty-fifty chance of sparking a miscarriage.

 **Dean.** Sounds reasonable. Does Hermione know?

 **Ron.** I don't know. Probably.

 _As Ron glances at impatiently at Coote, he notices three security officers stationed nearby._

Uh-oh.

 **Dean.** What?

 _Dean glances over and notices the security officers._

Uh-oh indeed. Offhand, I'd say that explains why Coote's hiding at a Exploding Snap table.

 **Ron.** And doing his best to ignore us. _[to Daisy]_ Attendant?

 _Enter Daisy._

 **Daisy.** Yes, gentles?

 **Ron.** Give me twenty Exploding Snap chips, will you?

 **Daisy.** Certainly.

 _Exit Daisy._

 _Ron drains his glass of elf-made wine._

 **Dean.** Wait a minute. You're not going to go over there, are you?

 **Ron.** You got a better idea? If he's our contact, I sure don't want to lose him now.

 **Dean.** _[sighs]_ So much for keeping a low profile. What do you want me to do?

 **Ron.** Be ready to run some interference.

 _The Exploding Snap chips appear._

So far it looks like they're just watching him. Maybe we can get him out of here before their pals arrive in force.

 **Dean.** If not?

 _Ron collects the chips and gets to his feet._

 **Ron.** Then I'll try to create a diversion and meet you back at the _Anglia_.

 **Dean.** Right. Good luck.

 _Ron sits across from Coote._

 **Ron.** Deal me in.

 _Coote and the others glance up at him._

 _[to Coote]_ You the dealer, sonny? Come on. Deal me in.

 **Coote.** Ah, no. It's not my deal.

 _Coote glances at the dealer._

 **First Man.** And we've already started. Wait until the next game.

 **Ron.** What? You haven't all even bet yet. Come on. Give me my cards.

 _Ron tosses his chips into the pot; the dealer sighs and passes him cards._

That's more like it. Brings back memories, this does. I used to drop the heavy end of the hammer on the guys back home all the time.

 **Coote.** Did you, now? Well, you're playing with the big boys here, not the little people. You may not find the sort of rewards you're used to.

 **Ron.** I'm not exactly an amateur myself. I've won, oh, probably sixty-three games in the last month alone.

 _Coote's expression reveals what Ron believes: that sixty-three is the number of his landing bay._

 **Coote.** Lot of rewards in numbers like that. You willing to put your money where your mouth is?

 **Ron.** I'll meet anything you've got.

 **Coote.** I may just take you up on it.

 **Second Man.** This is all very interesting, I'm sure. Some of us would like to play cards, though.

 _Coote raises his eyebrows at Ron._

 **Coote.** The bet's at four.

 **Ron.** Sure. I'll see the four, and raise you two.

 _Enter the Bloody Baron._

 **Baron.** Cheater.

 _The Baron snatches Ron's cards._

You are a cheater, sir.

 **Ron.** I don't know what you're talking about.

 **Baron.** _[angry]_ You know full well what I'm talking about. This card is a Detachable Cribbing Cuff.

 **Ron.** It is not.

 _Per the Baron's intentions, a crowd of onlookers - including the security officers - are distracted by this confrontation._

It's the same card I was dealt.

 **Baron.** Oh, is it?

 _The Baron taps the corner of the card; instantly its value changes._

 **Ron.** That's the card I was dealt. If it's a Detachable Cribbing Cuff, it's not my fault.

 _Enter Bob and Basil, the security officers._

 **Bob.** Keep your hands on the table. _[to the Baron]_ Move aside, Baron. We'll handle this.

 _Ron frowns at the Baron._

 **Ron.** Baron, huh?

 **Bob.** Hands on the table, I said.

 _Bob examines the Detachable Cribbing Cuff._

Cute card, con.

 **Baron.** He must have palmed the card he was dealt. Where is it, cheater?

 **Ron.** The card I was dealt is right there in your friend's hand. I don't need to cheat to win at Exploding Snap. If I had one, it's because it was dealt to me.

 **Baron.** Oh, really?

 _The Baron turns on First Man._

Your cards, sir, if you don't mind.

 **First Man.** What are you talking about? Why would I give someone else a Detachable Cribbing Cuff? Anyway, it's a house deck, see?

 **Baron.** Well, there's one way to be sure, isn't there? And then you and you can be scanned to see who's hiding an extra card. I dare say that would settle the issue, wouldn't you, Bob?

 **Bob.** Don't tell us our job, Baron. _[to Basil]_ Basil. Get that Probity Probe over here, will you?

 _Basil removes a Probity Probe._

 _Bob indicates Ron._

That one first.

 **Basil.** Right.

 _Basil probes Ron._

Nothing.

 **Bob.** _[uncertain]_ Try it again.

 _Basil probes Ron._

 **Basil.** Still nothing. He's got a rifle, transmitter, and ID, and that's it.

 _Bob turns on First Man._

 **First Man.** I protest. I'm a Class Double-A citizen. You have no right to put me through this sort of totally unfounded accusation.

 **Bob.** You do it here or down at the station. Your choice.

 _First Man glares at Ron, then is probed by Basil._

 **Basil.** He's clean, too.

 **Bob.** Scan around the floor. See if someone ditched it.

 **Baron.** And count the cards still in the deck.

 _Bob turns on the Baron._

 **Bob.** For the last time . . .

 **Baron.** Because if all we have here are the requisite seventy-six cards, perhaps what we're really looking at is a fixed deck.

 **Bob.** We don't fix decks in here.

 **Baron.** No? Not even when special people are sitting in on the game? People who might know to look for a special card when it comes up?

 **Bob.** That's ridiculous. This pub is a respectable and perfectly legal establishment. None of these players has any connection with . . .

 _In the chaos, Coote has vanished._

 **First Man.** Hey. The guy who was sitting next to me . . . Where did he go?

 **Baron.** _[snorts]_ So . . . none of them has any connection with you, do they?

 _Bob turns on Ron._

 **Bob.** You want to tell me your partner's name?

 **Ron.** He wasn't my partner. And I was not cheating. You want to make a formal accusation, take me down to the station and do it there. If you don't, then I'm leaving.

 **Bob.** _[sighs]_ Sure. Get out of here. Don't ever come back.

 **Ron.** Don't worry.

 _Upon leaving the pub, Ron discovers Dean back at the_ Ford Anglia _._

 **Dean.** That was quick. I wasn't expecting them to turn you loose for at least an hour.

 **Ron.** They didn't have much of a case. I hope Coote didn't give you the slip.

 **Dean.** _[shakes his head]_ He's waiting in the lounge . . . and considers himself in our debt.

 **Ron.** That could be useful.

 _Ron and Dean board the_ Ford Anglia _, where Coote is seated at the wizard's chess table._

Good to see you again, Coote.

 **Coote.** You, too, Weasley. I've thanked Thomas already. But I wanted to thank you, too . . . both for the warning and for helping me get out of there. I'm in your debt.

 **Ron.** No problem. I take it that is your broom in pit sixty-three?

 **Coote.** My employer's broom, yes. Fortunately, there's nothing contraband in it at the moment. I've already off-loaded. They obviously suspect me, though.

 **Dean.** What kind of contraband were you running? If it's not a secret, that is?

 **Coote.** _[raises an eyebrow]_ No secret, but you're not going to believe it. I was running food.

 **Dean.** You're right. I don't believe it.

 **Coote.** I didn't either at first. It seems there's a clan of people living off in the southern hills who don't find much about the new government to appreciate.

 **Dean.** Rebels?

 **Coote.** No, and that's what's strange about it. They're not rebelling or making trouble or even sitting on vital resources. They're simple people, and all they want is to be left alone to continue living that way. The government's apparently decided to make an example of them and among other things has cut off all food and medical supplies going that way until they agree to fall into step like everyone else.

 **Dean.** That sounds like this government. Not much into regional autonomy of any kind.

 **Coote.** Hence, we smuggle in food. Crazy business. Anyway, it's nice to see you two again. Nice to see you're still working together, too. So many teams have broken up over the past few years, especially since Golgomath bought the really heavy end of the hammer.

 _Ron glances at Dean._

 **Ron.** Well, it's actually more like we're back together. We sort of wound up on the same side during the war. Up until then . . .

 **Dean.** Up until then I wanted to kill him. No big deal, really.

 **Coote.** Sure. Let me guess: the _Anglia_ , right? I remember hearing rumors that you stole it.

 **Ron.** Stole it?

 **Dean.** Like I said, I was mad. _[to Coote]_ It wasn't an out-and-out theft, actually, though it came pretty close. I had a little semi-legit clearing house for used brooms at the time, and I ran short of money in an Exploding Snap game Ron and I were playing. I offered him his pick of any of my ships if he won. _[glares at Ron]_ He was supposed to go for one of the flashy chrome-plate yachts that had been collecting dust on the front row, not the car I'd been quietly upgrading on the side for myself.

 **Ron.** You did a good job, too. Though Hagrid and I wound up pulling a lot of the stuff out and redoing it ourselves.

 **Dean.** Nice. Another crack like that and I may just take it back.

 **Ron.** Hagrid would probably take great exception to that. _[to Coote]_ Of course, you knew all this already, didn't you?

 **Coote.** _[smiles]_ No offense, Weasley. I like to feel out my customers before we do business, get an idea of whether I can expect them to play straight with me. People who lie about their history usually lie about the job, too.

 **Ron.** I trust we passed?

 **Coote.** Like babes in the tall grass. So . . . what can Aberforth Dumbledore do for you?

 **Ron.** I want to offer Aberforth a deal: the chance to work directly with the Wizards' Council.

 **Coote.** I'd heard that you were going around trying to push that scheme with other smuggling groups. The general feeling is that you're trying to set them up for Murcus to take down.

 **Ron.** I'm not. Murcus is not exactly thrilled at the idea, but he's accepted it. We need to get more shipping capacity from somewhere, and smugglers are the logical supply to tap.

 **Coote.** From what I've heard, it sounds like an interesting offer. 'Course, I'm not the one who makes decisions like that.

 **Dean.** So take us to Aberforth. Let Ron talk to him directly.

 **Coote.** _[shakes his head]_ Sorry, but he's at the main base at the moment. I can't take you there.

 **Dean.** Why not?

 **Coote.** Because we don't let strangers just flit in and out. We don't have anything like the kind of massive, overbearing security Golgomath had in Surrey, for starters.

 **Dean.** We're not exactly . . .

 **Ron.** All right, then. How are you going to get back there?

 **Coote.** _[frowns]_ I guess I'll have to figure out a way to get my ship out of impoundment, won't I?

 **Ron.** That'll take time. Besides which, you're known here. On the other hand, someone who showed up with the proper credentials could probably pry it loose before anyone knew what had happened.

 **Coote.** _[raises an eyebrow]_ You, for instance?

 **Ron.** _[shrugs]_ I might be able to. After that thing at the pub, I probably should lie low, too. But I'm sure I could set it up.

 **Coote.** I'm sure. And the catch . . . ?

 **Ron.** No catch. All I want in return is for you to let us give you a lift back to your base and then have fifteen minutes to talk with Aberforth.

 **Coote.** _[hesitates]_ I'll get in trouble if I do this. You know that.

 **Dean.** We're not exactly random strangers. Aberforth met me once. And both Ron and I kept major military secrets for the Army for years. We've got a good record of people being able to trust us.

 **Coote.** _[sighs]_ I'll get in trouble. But I guess I really do owe you. One condition, though: I do all the navigation on the way in and set it up in a coded, erasable module. Whether you have to do the same thing on the way out will be up to Aberforth.

 **Ron.** Good enough. When can we leave?

 **Coote.** As soon as you're ready. Unless you want to go back to the pub and play those.

 _Coote indicates Ron's Exploding Snap cards._

 **Ron.** Forget it. I try not to play Exploding Snap when there are fanatics breathing down my neck.

 **Coote.** Yes, the Baron put on a good show, didn't he? I don't know what we would have done without him.

 **Dean.** Wait a minute. You know him?

 **Coote.** Sure. He's my contact with the hill clan. He couldn't have made nearly so much fuss without a stranger like you there for him to pick on, though.

 **Ron.** Why, that rotten . . . I suppose that was his Detachable Cribbing Cuff, huh?

 **Coote.** Sure was. _[at Ron's expression]_ What are you complaining about? You got what you wanted. I'm taking you to see Aberforth. Right?

 **Ron.** Right. So much for heroics, I guess.

 **Coote.** _[snorts]_ Tell me about it. Come on. Let's get into your computer and start coding up a nav module.

 _Exit all._


	36. Harry's New Prison

**Disclaimer: I am not George Lucas or J.K. Rowling.**

 _Enter Ginny and Aberforth, at their base at the Isle of Drear._

 **Aberforth.** Come in, Ginny. Close the door behind you.

 **Ginny.** Trouble?

 **Aberforth.** A minor problem only. A bit of an awkward one, though. Ritchie Coote just called to say he was on his way in . . . and he has guests: former Wizards' Council generals Dean Thomas and Ron Weasley.

 **Ginny.** _[tense]_ What do they want?

 **Aberforth.** Apparently, just to talk to me.

 **Ginny.** Did they bring their own ship?

 **Aberforth.** Theirs is the only one coming in, actually. Coote's riding with them.

 **Ginny.** A hostage?

 **Aberforth.** _[shakes his head]_ I don't think so. He gave all the proper all-clear passwords. The _Lion_ 's still in Norfolk, been impounded by the local authorities or some such. Apparently, Thomas and Weasley helped Coote avoid a similar fate.

 **Ginny.** Then thank them, have them put Coote down and tell them to get out of the region. You didn't invite them here.

 **Aberforth.** True. On the other hand, Coote seems to think he's under a certain obligation to them.

 **Ginny.** Then let him pay it back on his own time.

 **Aberforth.** Coote is one of my associates. His debts are the organization's. You should know that by now.

 **Ginny.** You're not going to give Potter to them, are you?

 **Aberforth.** Alive, you mean?

 **Ginny.** _[angry]_ I don't suppose it's occurred to you that Weasley and Thomas might have engineered this whole thing, including the _Lion_ 's impoundment, as a way of finding this base.

 **Aberforth.** It's occurred to me, yes. I dismissed it as somewhat farfetched.

 **Ginny.** _[sardonic]_ Of course. The great and noble Ron Weasley would never do something so devious, would he? You never answered my question.

 **Aberforth.** About Potter? I thought I'd made it clear, Ginny, that he stays here until I know why Grand Admiral Grindelwald is so interested in acquiring him. At the very least, we need to know what he's worth, and to whom, before we can set a fair market price for him. I have some feelers out. With luck, we should know in a few more days.

 **Ginny.** And meanwhile, his allies will be here in a few more minutes.

 **Aberforth.** Yes. Potter will have to be moved somewhere a bit more out of the way. We obviously can't risk Weasley and Thomas stumbling over him. I want you to move him to the number four storage shed.

 **Ginny.** That's where we're keeping that droid of his.

 **Aberforth.** The shed's got two rooms. Put him in the other one.

 _Aberforth indicates the lightwand at Ginny's waist._

And do remember to lose that before our guests arrive. I doubt they'd fail to recognize it.

 **Ginny.** Don't worry. If it's all the same to you, I'd just as soon not have much to do with them.

 **Aberforth.** I wasn't planning for you to. I'd like you here when I greet them and possibly to join us for dinner, as well. Other than that, you're excused from all social activities.

 **Ginny.** So they're staying the day?

 **Aberforth.** And possibly the night, as well. Requirements of a proper host aside, can you think of a better way for us to prove to the Council, should the need arise, that Potter was never here?

 **Ginny.** Are you warning the rest of the _Hog's Head_ 's crew to keep quiet?

 **Aberforth.** I'm doing better than that. I've sent everyone who knows about Potter off to get the _Silver Goat_ prepped. Which reminds me . . . After you move Potter, I want you to run his Firebolt farther back under the trees, no more than half a kilometer. I don't want you to go through any more of the forest alone than you have to. Can you fly a Firebolt?

 **Ginny.** I can fly anything.

 **Aberforth.** _[smiles]_ Good. You'd better be off, then. The _Ford Anglia_ will be landing in less than twenty minutes.

 **Ginny.** All right.

 _Ginny exits the room._

 _Exit Aberforth._

 _Ginny enter Harry's cell._

 _Enter Harry._

Get your case and let's go. It's moving day.

 **Harry.** Aberforth has made a decision?

 **Ginny.** You're moving to one of the storage sheds. We've got company coming, and we don't have any formal wear your size. Come on, move.

 _Ginny leads Harry to the shed._

In here.

 _Ginny shoves Harry inside._

 **Harry.** Looks cozy. Probably quiet, too.

 **Ginny.** Ideal for Auror meditation. We'll get a cot or something in for you later. Food, too.

 **Harry.** I'm all right for now.

 **Ginny.** Ask me if I care. Enjoy the quiet.

 _Ginny seals Harry inside and exits._

 **Harry.** I've been in worse places. At least there's no Horntail here.

 _Harry rises and examines the lock, only to discover that Ginny has damaged the lock, making that impossible. Looking around the room, Harry searches for a new escape route, to no avail. Finally, after much effort, Harry discovers a power outlet. As the Auror tries to mess with the out let, he hears something._

 **Hedwig's Voice.** _[beeps and whistles]_

 **Harry.** Hedwig. Is that you?

 **Hedwig's Voice.** _[beeps and whistles]_

 **Harry.** Steady, Hedwig. I'm going to try and get this power outlet open. There's probably one on your side, too. Can you get it open?

 **Hedwig's Voice.** _[beeps and whistles]_

 **Harry.** No, huh? Well, just hang on, then.

 _As Harry removes the cover from his outlet, he is able to see the outlet in Hedwig's room._

I don't think I can get your outlet open from here. Is your room locked?

 **Hedwig's Voice.** Negative.

 **Harry.** Restraining bolt?

 **Hedwig's Voice.** Affirmative.

 **Harry.** Never mind. If there's enough wire in here to reach to the door, I should be able to unlock it. Then we can both get out of here.

 _Harry inches out a low-voltage wire from the outlet._

It's going to be a few more minutes.

 _Harry tries to manipulate the lock, with the added risk of accidentally electrocuting himself._

What I wouldn't give to have my lightwand back for a minute.

 _As Harry tries to cut the wire, he accidentally touches it and jerks his hand back._

Uh-oh.

 **Hedwig's Voice.** What's wrong?

 **Harry.** I just touched one of the wires, and I didn't get a shock.

 **Hedwig's Voice.** _[whistles]_

 **Harry.** Yeah. _[aside]_ So Aberforth and Ginny didn't make a mistake, after all. They have already cut the power to the outlet.

 _The wire still in hand, Harry searches for a different power source, his eyes finally falliing on his prosthetic hand._

Hedwig. You know anything about cybernetic limb replacements?

 **Hedwig's Voice.** _[whistles cautiously]_

 **Harry.** It shouldn't take too much. All I need to do is get one of the power supplies out. Think you can walk me through the procedure?

 **Hedwig's Voice.** _[beeps]_

 **Harry.** Good. Let's get to it.

 _Exit all._


	37. Dinner at Aberforth's

**Disclaimer: I am not Timothy Zahn or J.K. Rowling.**

 _Ron and Dean are speaking to Aberforth at the Isle of Drear._

 **Aberforth.** Interesting. Interesting, indeed. I presume the Wizengamot would be willing to record legal guarantees of all this.

 **Ron.** We'll guarantee what we can. Your protection, legality of operation, and so forth. Naturally, we can't guarantee particular profit margins or anything like that.

 **Aberforth.** Naturally. _[to Dean]_ You've been rather quiet, General Thomas. How exactly do you fit into all of this?

 **Dean.** Just as a friend. Someone who knew how to get in touch with you. And someone who can vouch for Ron's integrity and honesty.

 **Aberforth.** Integrity and honesty. Interesting words to use in regard to a man with Captain Weasley's somewhat checkered reputation.

 **Ron.** Any checkering that existed is all in the past.

 **Aberforth.** Of course. Your proposal is, as I said, very interesting. But not, I think, for my organization.

 **Ron.** May I ask why not?

 **Aberforth.** Very simply, because it would look to certain parties as if we were taking sides. Given the extent of our operations, and the regions in which those operations take place, that might not be an especially politic thing to do.

 **Ron.** I understand. I'd like the chance to convince you that there are ways to keep your other clients from knowing about it.

 **Aberforth.** _[smiles]_ I think you underestimate the Ministry's intelligence capabilities, Captain Weasley. They know far more about Council movements than you might think.

 **Ron.** Tell me about it. _[glances at Dean]_ That reminds me of something else I wanted to ask you. Dean said you might know a slicer who was good enough to crack diplomatic codes.

 **Aberforth.** Interesting request. Particularly coming from someone who should already have access to such codes. Is intrigue beginning to form among the Wizards' Council hierarchy, perhaps?

 **Ron.** This is purely personal. Mostly personal, anyway.

 **Aberforth.** Ah. As it happens, one of the best slicers in the trade will be at dinner this afternoon. You'll join us, of course?

 **Ron.** We don't want to impose on your time . . .

 **Aberforth.** It's no imposition at all. With the press of business and all, we tend to miss the midday meal entirely and compensate by pushing the evening dinner up to late afternoon.

 **Ron.** I remember those wonderful smuggler schedules. You're lucky to get even two meals.

 **Aberforth.** Indeed. If you'll follow me . . . ?

 _Ron and Dean follow Aberforth into the main building._

We don't stand on protocol regarding meals here.

 _Enter Stebbins, Borgin, Lorcan Lovegood, and Ginny._

Good evening, all. May I present Thomas and Weasley, who shall be dining with us tonight. _[to Ron and Dean]_ Three of my associates: Stebbins, Borgin, and Lovegood. Lovegood is the slicer I mentioned, possibly the best in the business. And of course you've already met Ginny Weasley.

 **Ron.** Yes.

 _As Ron nods at Ginny, she does nothing but glare at him and Dean._

 **Lorcan.** So you're Ron Weasley. I've heard a lot about you. Always wanted to meet you.

 **Ron.** It's nice to be famous. Just remember that whatever you've heard has been hearsay. And that hearsay stories grow an extra leg every time they're told.

 **Aberforth.** You're too modest. It would be difficult to embellish that manticore slaver incident, for example.

 **Dean.** Manticore slavers? You never told me that one.

 **Ron.** It wasn't anything important.

 **Lorcan.** He and Hagrid attacked a manticore slaver ship. Just the two of them. The manticores were so scared they abandoned ship.

 **Ron.** They were more pirates than slavers. And they weren't afraid of me. They abandoned ship because I told them I had twenty Hit Wizards with me and was coming aboard to check their shipping licenses.

 **Dean.** _[raises an eyebrow]_ And they bought that?

 **Ron.** _[shrugs]_ I was broadcasting a borrowed Ministry ID at the time.

 **Lorcan.** But then you know what he did? He gave the ship over to the slaves they found locked up in the hold. Gave it to them, just like that. Including all the cargo, too.

 **Dean.** Why, you old softie. No wonder you never told me that one.

 **Ron.** The cargo was pirate plunder. Some of it extremely traceable. We were off Bulgaria. They had a strange local law at the time that pirate or slaver victims got to split up the proceeds if the pirates were taken or killed.

 **Aberforth.** That law's still in force, as far as I know.

 **Ron.** Probably. Anyway, Hagrid was with me . . . and you know Hagrid's opinion of slavers.

 **Dean.** Yeah. They'd have had a better chance with the twenty Hit Wizards.

 **Ron.** And if I hadn't just given away the ship . . .

 _Aberforth's transmitter beeps._

 **Aberforth.** Excuse me. _[into transmitter]_ Dumbledore here. . . . I'll be right there.

 _Aberforth rises to his feet._

Excuse me again. A small matter needs my attention.

 **Ron.** Trouble?

 **Aberforth.** I hope not.

 _Ginny rises as well._

Hopefully, this will only take a few minutes. Please enjoy your meal.

 _Exit Aberforth and Ginny._

 **Ron.** I've got a bad feeling about this.

 **Dean.** I've seen her before, Ron. I don't know where. But I know I've seen her, and I don't think she was a smuggler at the time.

 **Ron.** Well, figure it out fast, buddy. We might be about to wear out our welcome.

 **Dean.** I'm working on it. What do we do until then?

 _A droid arrives, serving the ex-smugglers their meal._

 **Ron.** Until then, I guess we enjoy our meal.

 _Exit all._


	38. Grindelwald's Message

**Disclaimer: I am not Timothy Zahn or J.K. Rowling.**

 _Aberforth, Ginny, and Goldstein watch as Grindelwald's forces approach the Isle of Drear._

 **Goldstein.** He came in from Apparition about ten minutes ago. Captain Ogden signaled two minutes later, asking for you personally.

 **Aberforth.** Any signs of landing craft or brooms?

 **Goldstein.** Not yet. But from his insertion angle, I'd guess he'll be dropping some soon, downpoint probably somewhere in this part of the forest.

 **Aberforth.** Where did we wind up putting the _Ford Anglia_?

 **Goldstein.** It's over on pad eight.

 **Aberforth.** Take two men and go throw a camo net over it. There's no point in taking chances. And do it quietly. We don't want to alarm our guests.

 **Goldstein.** Right.

 _Exit Goldstein._

 _Aberforth glances at Ginny._

 **Aberforth.** Interesting timing, this visit.

 **Ginny.** If that's a subtle way of asking whether or not I called them, don't bother. I didn't.

 **Aberforth.** Really? I'm a little surprised.

 **Ginny.** So am I. I should have thought of it days ago. You going to talk to him or not?

 **Aberforth.** I don't suppose I have much choice. _[into transmitter]_ Captain Ogden, this is Aberforth Dumbledore. My apologies for the delay. What can I do for you?

 _Enter Floo image of Gellert Grindelwald._

 **Grindelwald.** Good afternoon, Captain Dumbledore. I'm Grand Admiral Grindelwald.

 **Aberforth.** Good afternoon, Admiral. This is an unexpected honor. May I ask the purpose of your call?

 **Grindelwald.** Part of it I'm sure you've already guessed. We find ourselves in need of more hinkypunks and would like your permission to harvest some more of them.

 **Aberforth.** Certainly. If I may say so, you seem to be running through them rather quickly. Are you having trouble keeping them alive?

 **Grindelwald.** _[raises an eyebrow]_ None of them has died, Captain. We simply need more of them.

 **Aberforth.** Ah. I see.

 **Grindelwald.** I doubt that. But no matter. It occurred to me, Captain, that as long as we were coming here, it might be a good time for us to have a little talk.

 **Aberforth.** What sort of talk?

 **Grindelwald.** I'm sure we can find some topics of mutual interest. For example, I'm in the market for new warships.

 **Aberforth.** Warships?

 **Grindelwald.** Yes. _[smiles]_ Don't worry. I'm not expecting you to actually have any capital broomhips in stock. But a man with your contacts may possibly be able to acquire them.

 **Aberforth.** I doubt that my contacts are quite that extensive, Admiral. I don't think we'll be able to help you.

 **Grindelwald.** You'll try anyway. And then there's the matter of your refusal to help in our search for Harry Potter.

 **Aberforth.** I'm sorry we were also unable to help there, Admiral. As I explained before to your representative, we were under several tight scheduling deadlines at the time. We simply couldn't spare the brooms.

 **Grindelwald.** At the time, you say? But the search is still going on, Captain.

 **Aberforth.** Still going on? But your representative said Potter was flying a Firebolt. If you haven't found him by now, his life support will surely have given out.

 **Grindelwald.** Ah. I see the misunderstanding. Normally, yes, you'd be correct. But Potter is an Auror. And among an Auror's bag of tricks is the ability to go into a sort of comatose state. So there's still plenty of time for you to join in the hunt.

 **Aberforth.** I see. Interesting. I suppose that's just one of the many things the average person never knew about Aurors.

 **Grindelwald.** Perhaps we'll have time to discuss such things when I arrive on the Isle of Drear.

 **Aberforth.** I'm afraid we don't have much to entertain you with. Certainly not on such short notice.

 **Grindelwald.** No need for entertainment. As I said, I'm simply coming for a talk. A brief talk, of course. I know how busy you are.

 **Aberforth.** I appreciate your consideration. If you'll excuse me, Admiral, I need to begin the preparations to receive you.

 **Grindelwald.** I look forward to our meeting.

 _Exit Grindelwald._

 **Aberforth.** _[to Ginny]_ Contact Borgin. Tell him we have Ministry guests coming, and he's to begin preparations to receive them properly. Then go to pad eight and have Goldstein move the _Ford Anglia_ farther back under cover. Go there in person. _Nurmengard_ and its shuttles might be able to tap into our transmissions.

 **Ginny.** What about Weasley and Thomas?

 **Aberforth.** We'll have to get them out, of course. Move them into the forest, perhaps at or near their car. I'd better deal with that myself.

 **Ginny.** Why not turn them over to Grindelwald?

 **Aberforth.** With no offer of a bounty? Relying on the Grand Admiral's generosity after the fact?

 **Ginny.** I don't find that a compelling reason.

 **Aberforth.** Neither do I. What I do find compelling is that they're our guests. They've sat at our table and eaten our food . . . and like it or not, that means they're under our protection.

 **Ginny.** And do these rules of hospitality apply to Potter, too?

 **Aberforth.** You know they don't. But now is not the time or the place to turn him over to the Ministry, even if that's the way the decision ultimately goes. Do you understand?

 **Ginny.** No. I don't.

 **Aberforth.** It's a matter of relative strength. Here on the ground, with a Ministry cruiser orbiting overhead, we have no bargaining position at all. I wouldn't do business under such circumstances even if Grindelwald was the most trustworthy client in the galaxy. Which he's not. Now do you understand?

 **Ginny.** _[sighs]_ I don't agree. But I'll accept your decision.

 **Aberforth.** Thank you. Perhaps after the Ministry leaves, you can ask General Thomas about the perils of making bargains while Hit Wizards are strolling around your territory. So . . . _Anglia_ moved. Weasley and Thomas moved. Potter and the droid should be all right where they are. The four shed has enough shielding to keep out anything but a fairly determined Sneakoscope.

 **Ginny.** And if Grindelwald is determined?

 **Aberforth.** Then we may have trouble. On the other hand, I doubt that Grindelwald would be coming down himself if he thought there was the possibility of a firefight. The upper military ranks don't achieve that status by risking their own lives unnecessarily. Enough talk. You have your job. I have mine. Let's get to them.

 _Ginny nods and rises._

 **Aberforth.** Where did you put Potter's lightwand?

 **Ginny.** It's in my room. Why?

 **Aberforth.** Better get it and put it somewhere else. Lightwands aren't supposed to be highly detectable, but there's no point in taking chances. Put it in with the resonator cavities in three shed. They ought to provide adequate shielding from stray Sneakoscopes.

 **Ginny.** Right. What was all that business about capital broomships?

 **Aberforth.** You heard everything that was said.

 **Ginny.** I know. I was talking about your reaction to it.

 **Aberforth.** I'd hoped it wasn't that obvious.

 **Ginny.** It wasn't.

 **Aberforth.** Ask me again later. Right now, we have work to do.

 _Exit Ginny._


	39. Harry's Escape

**Disclaimer: I am not Timothy Zahn or J.K. Rowling.**

 _In the storage shed, Harry continues using the wires in his prosthetic hand to manipulate the lock._

 **Harry.** Okay, Hedwig. I think we're ready to try it. Cross your fingers.

 **Hedwig.** I don't have any fingers to cross.

 **Harry.** _[aside]_ It's been five years since I've thought of this as a machine attached to my arm, but right now . . . it is really difficult to think of it as anything but.

 **Hedwig.** [impatient]Hurry.

 _Harry forces his attention away from his hand._

 **Harry.** Right. Here goes.

 _Using the wires in his prosthetic hand, Harry finally manages to work the door open._

Got it.

 _Harry leans over and peers outside._

 _Once seeing that the hallway was deserted, Harry breaks contact with the outlet and dives through the doorway before the door slides closed again. Then the Auror opens the door to Hedwig's cell and steps inside._

 **Hedwig.** _[beeps excitedly]_

 **Harry.** Quiet, Hedwig. And hold still."

 _Harry easily removes the simple restraining bolt, freeing Hedwig._

Come on.

 _Harry and Hedwig slip out of the storage shed._

The broom's around that way. Looks like the best approach would be to circle to the left, keeping inside the trees as much as we can. Can you handle the terrain?

 _Hedwig scans the area._

 **Hedwig.** _[cautious]_ Affirmative.

 **Harry.** Okay. Keep an eye out for anyone coming out of the buildings.

 _Harry and Hedwig make their way toward the forest on the Isle of Drear._

 **Hedwig.** _[beeps warningly]_

 _Harry turns and notices three men stepping out of the main building._

 **Harry.** Freeze.

 _Harry and Hedwig freeze._

 _[aside]_ My black outfit should make it easy to camouflage myself within the forest. Hedwig, on the other hand, is a different matter. She's too easily recognized.

 _Never looking in their direction, the three men draw their rifles and disappear into the forest._

 **Hedwig.** _[beeps softly]_

 **Harry.** I don't like it, either. Let's hope it doesn't have anything to do with us. All clear?

 **Hedwig.** Affirmative.

 _Harry and Hedwig move on, being careful not to step into the forest._

Look out.

 _Harry turns and freezes._

 _Enter Ginny, stepping out of the main building._

 _After standing there for a moment, Ginny turns off briskly, coming to a decision._

 _Exit Ginny._

 _Harry lets out a breath of relief._

 **Harry.** Come on, Hedwig. It's getting too crowded out here. We're going to cut farther into the forest, come up on the brooms from behind."

 _However, as they do so, they discover that the Firebolt has vanished._

No. I don't know where they've moved it to. Can your sensors pick it up?

 **Hedwig.** Negative. _[beeps a technical explanation that goes over Harry's head]_

 **Harry.** Well, it doesn't matter. We'd have had to put down somewhere else on the region and find something with a working hyperdrive, anyway. We'll just skip that step and take one of these.

 _Harry glances around, hoping to find a Firebolt or a Nimbus. Instead, he is forced to choose between two larger broomships._

Got any suggestions?

 **Hedwig.** Affirmative.

 _Hedwig brings Harry's attention to a group of Cleansweeps, brooms of which he is not as familiar with but are within the size and length of a Firebolt or a Nimbus._

 **Harry.** _[doubtful]_ One of those?

 **Hedwig.** _[beeps impatiently]_

 **Harry.** Right. We're a little pressed for time.

 _Harry and Hedwig mount one of the Cleansweeps._

Looks like everything's already on standby. There's an outlet right there. Give everything a quick check while I strap in. With a little luck, maybe we can be out of here before anyone even knows we're gone.

 _Harry and Hedwig lift off._

 _Exit all._


	40. The Crash

**Disclaimer: I am not Timothy Zahn or J.K. Rowling.**

 _Enter Ginny, on the Isle of Drear._

 **Ginny.** _[aside]_ Once more I've decided . . . I hate the universe. I'm the one who found Potter. I, and I, alone. There is no question about that, no argument even possible. It should be me, not Aberforth, who has the final say on his fate. I should have left him out there. I should have just let him die in the cold of space. And I would have, but . . . If he died out there, all alone, I might never have known for sure that he was, in fact, dead. And I certainly wouldn't have the satisfaction of killing him myself.

 _Ginny glances down at the lightwand in her hand._

I could do it now. I could go in there to check on him and claim he tried to jump me. Without the Magic to call on, he would be an easy target, even for someone like me who hasn't wielded a lightwand in years. It would be easy, clean, and very fast. And I don't owe Aberforth anything, no matter how well his organization might have treated me . . . not about something like this. And yet . . .

 _As far off Harry and Hedwig take off on one of the Cleansweeps, Ginny takes notice._

 _What does Aberforth think he's doing? [with realization]_ Oh, damn.

 _Ginny marches over to the storage shed and notices that Harry and Hedwig are gone._

Damn it.

 _Ginny reaches for her transceiver._

No, I can't. The Ministry is still out there. If they catch one mention of Potter's presence here . . . that could land us all in trouble. _[sighs]_ Son of a Bludger. This leaves me only one option. . . .

 _Ginny mounts the second Cleansweep and takes off._

 _As Ginny pursues him and Hedwig, Harry takes notice of not only that, but also_ Nurmengard _in orbit above the Isle of Drear._

 **Harry.** _[to Hedwig]_ I think that we're in trouble.

 **Hedwig.** _[beeps and whistles]_

 _As Harry flies, he glances backward and realizes who is pursuing him._

 **Harry.** _[curses]_ Ginny Weasley.

 _Flying a little too close to the trees, Harry accidentally scrapes Hedwig._

 **Hedwig.** _[squeals]_

 **Harry.** Sorry. _[aside]_ Flying this low might not be a wise choice, but what choice do I have? The forest below seems to have a strange effect on sensors. At least now I know identity of the company Ginny mentioned. Looks like I got out in the nick of time.

 **Hedwig.** Watch out.

 _Harry notices that Ginny is gaining on him._

 **Harry.** Hang on.

 _In an attempt to evade Ginny, Harry inadvertently crashes downward onto the forest below._

 _Exit all._


	41. Grindelwald's Arrival

**Disclaimer: I am not Timothy Zahn or J.K. Rowling.**

 _Enter Aberforth and Goldstein, on the Isle of Drear._

 _Aberforth and Goldstein watch as Grindelwald's men approach._

 **Goldstein.** The Ministry's parade. Ground expertise hasn't eroded, anyway.

 **Aberforth.** Quiet.

 _Enter Grindelwald and Sanguini, flanked by Hit Wizards._

Grand Admiral Grindelwald. Welcome to our little corner of the Isle of Drear. I'm Aberforth Dumbledore.

 **Grindelwald.** Pleased to meet you, Captain.

 **Aberforth.** I apologize for our somewhat less than formal greeting. We don't often entertain people of your status here.

 **Grindelwald.** _[raises an eyebrow]_ Really. I'd have thought a man in your position would be used to dealing with the elite. Particularly high regional officials whose cooperation, shall we say, you find you require?

 **Aberforth.** _[smiles]_ We deal with the elite from time to time. But not here. This is . . . was, I should say _[glances at the Hit Wizards]_. . . our private operations base.

 **Grindelwald.** Of course. Interesting drama a few minutes ago out there to the west. Tell me about it.

 **Aberforth.** _[grimaces]_ Merely a small internal problem. A former and somewhat disgruntled employee broke into one of our storage sheds, stole some merchandise, and made off with one of our brooms. Another of our people is in pursuit.

 **Grindelwald.** _Was_ in pursuit, Captain. Or didn't you know they both went down?

 **Aberforth.** I didn't know that, no. Our sensors . . . The metallic content of the trees fouls them up badly.

 **Grindelwald.** We had a higher observation angle. It looked as if the first broom hit the trees, with the pursuer getting caught in the slipstream. I take it the pursuer was someone special?

 **Aberforth.** All my associates are special.

 _Aberforth reaches for a transceiver._

Please excuse me a moment. I have to get a rescue team organized.

 _Grindelwald pushes Aberforth's transceiver aside._

 **Grindelwald.** Permit me. Troop commander?

 **Hit Wizard.** Sir?

 **Grindelwald.** Take a detail out to the crash site. Examine the wreckage and bring back any survivors . . . and anything that looks like it wouldn't normally belong in a Cleansweep Eleven.

 **Hit Wizard.** Yes, sir.

 _Exit a few Hit Wizards._

 **Aberforth.** I appreciate your assistance, Admiral. But it really isn't necessary.

 **Grindelwald.** On the contrary, Captain. Your assistance with the hinkypunks has left us in your debt. How better for us to repay you?

 **Aberforth.** How better, indeed? _[aside]_ The cards have been dealt, and there is nothing I can do now to alter them. Let us hope that Ginny somehow has things under control. With anyone else, I wouldn't bet on it. But Ginny . . . she's not anyone else. There might be a chance.

 **Grindelwald.** And now I believe you were going to show me around?

 **Aberforth.** Yes. If you'll come this way, please?

 _As Aberforth leads Grindelwald and Sanguini through his base, they are viewed by Ron and Dean, who stand far off with Lorcan, watching through Omnioculars._

 **Ron.** Looks like the Hit Wizards are leaving. Some of them, anyway. Filing back into one of the brooms.

 _Dean takes the Omnioculars._

 **Dean.** Let me see.

 _Dean studies the departing Hit Wizards._

Yes, it seems to be just the one broom that's going.

 **Ron.** _[to Lorcan]_ You get Ministry visitors here often?

 **Lorcan.** Not here. They've been to the forest once or twice to pick up some hinkypunks, but they've never come to the base. At least, not while I was here.

 **Dean.** _[frowns]_ Hinkypunks? What are those?

 **Lorcan.** Little furry snakes with legs. I don't know what they're good for. Look, couldn't we get back to the _Hog's Head_ now? Aberforth told me I was supposed to keep you there, where you'd be safe.

 _Ron ignores Lorcan._

 **Ron.** _[to Dean]_ What do you think?

 **Dean.** _[shrugs]_ Got to have something to do with that Cleansweep that went burning out of here just as Aberforth was herding us out.

 **Lorcan.** There was some kind of prisoner. Aberforth and Weasley had him stashed away. Maybe he got out. Now, can we please get back to . . . ?

 **Dean.** A prisoner? When did Aberforth start dealing with prisoners?

 _In the distance, Ron spots Sanguini, recognizing him as belonging to the same species which attacked Hermione._

 **Ron.** Maybe when he started dealing with kidnappers.

 **Lorcan.** We don't deal with kidnappers.

 **Ron.** Well, you're dealing with one now. _[indicates Sanguini]_ That little gray guy in there? That's one of the magical creatures who tried to kidnap Hermione and me.

 **Dean.** What? Are you sure?

 **Ron.** It's one of the species, anyway. We didn't stop at the time to get names. _[to Lorcan]_ This prisoner . . . Who was he?

 **Lorcan.** I don't know. _[shakes his head]_ They brought him back on the _Hog's Head_ a few days ago and put him in the short-term barracks. I think they'd just moved him over to one of the storage sheds when we got the word that the Ministry was coming down for a visit.

 **Ron.** What did he look like?

 **Lorcan.** I don't know. None of us was supposed to go near him or ask any questions about him.

 _Ron and Dean exchange looks._

 **Dean.** Could be someone they don't want the Ministry to get hold of. A defector, maybe, trying to get to the Wizards' Council?

 **Ron.** I'm more worried right now about their having moved him out of the barracks. That could mean the Hit Wizards are planning to move in for a while.

 **Lorcan.** Aberforth didn't say anything about that.

 **Dean.** Aberforth may not know it yet. Trust me, I was on the short end of a Hit Wizard bargain once.

 _Dean peers through the Omnioculars._

Looks like they're going inside.

 _As they watch, Ron sets his sights on Grindelwald._

 **Ron.** Any idea who that guy with the blond hair is?

 **Lorcan.** I think he's a Grand Admiral or something. Took over Ministry operations a while back. I don't know his name.

 _Ron and Dean exchange looks._

 **Dean.** A Grand Admiral?

 **Lorcan.** Yeah. Look, they're going. There's nothing else to see. Can we please . . . ?

 _Ron pockets the Omnioculars._

 **Ron.** Let's get back to the _Anglia_. _[aside]_ A Grand Admiral. No wonder we've been getting the sky cut out from under us lately.

 **Dean.** I don't suppose you have any records on Ministry Grand Admirals back on the _Anglia_.

 **Ron.** No. But they've got them in London.

 **Dean.** Great. Let's hope we live long enough to get this tidbit back there.

 **Ron.** We will. We'll stick around long enough to find out what kind of game Aberforth's playing. But then we're gone. Even if we have to blow out of here with that camo net still hanging off the car.

 _Exit all._


	42. An Uneasy Alliance

**Disclaimer: I am not Timothy Zahn or J.K. Rowling.**

 _Within the forest on the Isle of Drear, Harry awakes._

 **Harry.** You okay, Hedwig? Hang on. I'm coming."

 _Harry frees Hedwig from the wrecked Cleansweep._

We'd better get moving. That other broom could be back with a ground party any time.

 _But as Harry and Hedwig turn around, they discover that Ginny's broom has also crashed, and is in perhaps worse shape than Harry's._

 **Hedwig.** _[whistles in awe]_

 **Harry.** Wait here, Hedwig. I'm going to take a quick look.

 _Harry approaches Ginny's broom, where he discovers Ginny within. After a brief hesitation, Harry decides to help her - only to find Ginny completely conscious and armed with a rifle._

 **Ginny.** I figured you'd come. Back up. Now.

 _Harry backs up._

 **Harry.** Are you hurt at all?

 **Ginny.** None of your business.

 _Ginny gets off the broom._

There's a case in that compartment just over the exit hatch. Get it.

 _Harry retrieves a survival kit from the broom._

 **Harry.** I hope we're not going to have to walk the whole way back.

 **Ginny.** I won't. Whether you make the trip back at all is another question.

 **Harry.** Finishing what you started with this?

 **Ginny.** _[snorts]_ Listen, buddy boy, it was you who took us down, not me. My only mistake was being stupid enough to be sitting too close to your tail when you hit the trees. Put the bag down and get that droid out of there.

 _As Harry does as she suggests, Ginny rifles through the survival kit._

Just stay right there. And keep your hands where I can see them.

 _Harry and Ginny hear the sound of an approaching broom._

Sounds like our ride back is already on the way. I want you and the droid . . .

 _However, upon realizing their visitor is a Ministry broom, Ginny trails off. She abruptly shuts the survival kit and turns her rifle on Harry and Hedwig._

Move. Into the trees, both of you. I said move.

 _Holding out the rifle, Ginny coerces Harry and Hedwig farther into the trees._

Farther in. Come on. Move it. Far enough. Hide the droid and then hit dirt.

Harry got Artoo over the root and behind a tree … and as he dropped down beside Ginny, he suddenly understood.

 _Looking up, Harry notices the Ministry broom._

Not a move. Not a sound.

 _Harry nods._

 _Enter the Hit Wizards, who split up and search the area._

 _Harry frowns._

 **Harry.** _[aside]_ Here is Ginny's golden opportunity to turn me over to the Ministry. And yet, here we both lay, hiding behind a tree root and trying not to breathe too loudly. Has she suddenly changed her mind? Or is it simply that she doesn't want any witnesses nearby when she kills me? In which case, my best chase may be to find some way of surrendering to the Hit Wizards. Once away from the Isle of Drear, with the Magic as my ally again, i would at least have a fighting chance. If I can just find some way to distract Ginny long enough to get rid of her rifle . . .

 **Ginny.** _[to Harry]_ Whatever you're thinking about trying, don't. I can easily claim you were holding me prisoner out here and that I managed to snatch the rifle away from you.

 _Harry gulps._

 _Exit the Hit Wizards._

 _Harry starts to rise._

 **Harry.** Well . . .

 **Ginny.** Quiet. They'll have left a sensor behind, just in case someone comes back.

 **Harry.** _[frowns]_ How do you know?

 **Ginny.** Because that's standard Hit Wizard procedure in a case like this. Real quiet, now. We get up and grab some more distance. And keep the droid quiet, too.

 **Harry.** What now?

 **Ginny.** We sit down.

 **Harry.** _[nods]_ Thank you for not turning me in to the Hit Wizards.

 **Ginny.** Save it. Don't worry. There wasn't anything altruistic about it. The incoming brooms must have seen us and sent a group over to investigate. Aberforth's going to have to spin them some sort of sugar story about what happened, and I can't just walk into their arms until I know what that story is.

 **Harry.** You could call him.

 **Ginny.** I could also call the Ministry directly and save myself some time . . . unless you don't think they've got the equipment to monitor anything I send. Now shut up. I've got work to do.

 _Ginny retrieves a keypad and looks through it._

Three days.

 **Harry.** Three days to what?

 **Ginny.** The edge of the forest. Civilization. Well, Dufftown, anyway, which is about as close as this part of the region gets to it.

 **Harry.** And how many of us will be going there?

 **Ginny.** _[icy]_ That's the question, isn't it? Can you give me any reason why I should bother taking you along?

 **Harry.** Sure. Hedwig.

 **Ginny.** Don't be absurd. Whatever happens, the droid stays here . . . in pieces.

 **Harry.** In pieces?

 **Ginny.** What, you need it spelled out? The droid knows too much. We can't leave it here for the Hit Wizards to find.

 **Harry.** Knows too much about what?

 **Ginny.** You, of course. You, Aberforth, me . . . this whole stupid mess.

 **Hedwig.** _[moans]_

 **Harry.** She won't tell them anything.

 **Ginny.** Not after it's in pieces, no.

 **Harry.** We need her. You told me yourself the forest was dangerous. Hedwig has sensors that can spot predators before they get close enough to strike.

 **Ginny.** Maybe. Maybe not. The vegetation here limits sensor ranges down to practically zero.

 **Harry.** It'll still be better than you or I could do. And she'll also be able to watch while we're sleeping.

 **Ginny.** _[raises an eyebrow]_ We?

 **Harry.** We. I don't think she'll be willing to protect you unless I'm along.

 _Ginny picks up her rifle._

 **Ginny.** No good. I can get along without her. And I certainly don't need you.

 **Harry.** Are you sure you're not letting your emotions get in the way of your judgment?

 **Ginny.** Let me tell you something, Potter. I've wanted to kill you for a long time. I dreamed about your death every night for most of that first year. Dreamed it, plotted it. I must have run through a thousand scenarios, trying to find exactly the right way to do it. You can call it a cloud on my judgment if you want to. I'm used to it by now. It's the closest thing I've got a permanent companion.

 **Harry.** What did I do to you?

 **Ginny.** You destroyed my life. It's only fair that I destroy yours.

 **Harry.** Will killing me bring your old life back?

 **Ginny.** You know better than that. But it's still something I have to do. For myself, and for . . .

 **Harry.** What about Aberforth?

 **Ginny.** What about him?

 **Harry.** I thought he still wanted me kept alive.

 **Ginny.** _[snorts]_ We all want things we can't have. I almost wish I could drag it out a little more. But I don't have the time to spare.

 _Ginny raises her rifle._

 **Harry.** Wait a minute. You said you needed to find out what Aberforth had told the Ministry. What if I could get you a secure comm channel to him?

 **Ginny.** _[suspicious]_ How?

 **Harry.** _[nods at the survival kit]_ Does the transceiver in there have enough range to reach back to the base? I mean, without satellite boosting or anything.

 **Ginny.** There's a sonde balloon included that can take the antenna high enough to get past most of the forest damping. But it's nondirectional, which means the Ministry and anyone else in this hemisphere will be able to listen in.

 **Harry.** That's okay. I can encrypt it so that no one else will be able to get anything out of it. Or rather, Hedwig can.

 **Ginny.** _[smiles]_ Wonderful. Except for one minor detail: if the encrypt is that good, how is Aberforth supposed to decrypt it?

 **Harry.** He won't have to. The computer in my Firebolt will do it for him.

 **Ginny.** _[smile fades]_ You're stalling. You can't do a counterpart encrypt between an messenger droid and a ship computer.

 **Harry.** Why not? Hedwig's the only droid who's worked with that computer in more than five years, with close to three thousand hours of flight time. He's bound to have molded it to his own personality by now. In fact, I know he has. The ground maintenance people have to run diagnostics through him to make any sense out of them.

 **Ginny.** I thought standard procedure was to wipe and reload droid memories every six months to keep that from happening.

 **Harry.** I like Hedwig the way she is. And she and the Firebolt work better together this way.

 **Ginny.** How much better?

 **Harry.** _[frowns]_ I don't remember the exact number. It was something like thirty percent faster than a baseline messenger/Firebolt interface. Maybe thirty-five.

 **Ginny.** That's counterpart-level speed, all right. The Ministry could still crack it, though.

 **Harry.** Eventually. But it would take some specialized equipment to do it. And you said yourself we'd be out of here in three days.

 **Ginny.** Your broom's sitting all alone out in the forest. How are you going to get the message back to Aberforth?

 **Harry.** Someone's bound to check on the broom eventually. All we have to do is dump the message into storage and leave some kind of signal flashing that it's there. You have people who know how to pull a dump, don't you?

 **Ginny.** _[glares at Harry]_ Any idiot knows how to pull a dump. Funny, isn't it, how this scheme just happens to require that I keep both of you alive a while longer.

 _Harry remains silent._

What about the droid? It will take forever to get it across this terrain.

 **Harry.** Hedwig made it through forests before. However, I should be able to rig up a dragging frame to carry him on a travois, or something like that. If you'll give me my lightwand for a minute I can cut a couple of those branches off.

 **Ginny.** Sit down. I'll do it.

 **Harry.** _[aside]_ Well, it was worth a try. _[to Ginny]_ Those two. Be careful. Lightwands are tricky to handle.

 **Ginny.** _[sarcastic]_ Your concern for my welfare is touching.

 _Ginny ignites the lightwand and cuts two branches with ease. Then she deactivates it._

Help yourself.

 **Harry.** Right.

 _Harry stares at Ginny, stunned._

You've used a lightwand before.

 **Ginny.** _[cold]_ Just so you know I can handle it . . . in case you should feel tempted to try and make a grab for my rifle. _[glances upward]_ Come on. Get busy with that travois. We'll need to find some kind of clearing to put the sonde balloon up, and I want to get that done before nightfall.

 _Exit all._


	43. Ron and Dean's Discovery

**Disclaimer: I am not Timothy Zahn or J.K. Rowling.**

 _Enter Ron, Dean, Aberforth, and Lorcan, on the_ Hog's Head _._

 **Aberforth.** I must apologize for chasing you out like that, particularly in the middle of a meal. Not exactly the sort of hospitality we strive for here.

 **Ron.** No problem. What was that all about, anyway?

 **Aberforth.** Nothing serious. Some people with whom I've had business dealings wanted to come and look the place over.

 **Ron.** Ah. So you're working directly for the Ministry now?

 _Aberforth glances at Dean and Lorcan._

 **Aberforth.** Lovegood?

 **Lorcan.** I'm sorry, sir. They insisted on coming out to see what was happening.

 **Aberforth.** I see. No harm done, probably. Not the wisest of risks to take, though.

 **Ron.** I'm used to taking risks. You haven't answered my question.

 **Aberforth.** If I'm not interested in working for the Council, I'm certainly not interested in working for the Ministry. The Ministry has been coming here for the past few weeks to collect hinkypunks - sessile creatures, like the ones hanging onto the tree in the great room. I offered my assistance in helping them safely remove the hinkypunks from their trees.

 **Ron.** What did you get in return?

 **Aberforth.** The privilege of watching them work. Giving me that much extra information to try to figure out what they wanted with the things.

 **Ron.** And what did they want with them?

 **Aberforth.** Information costs money here, Weasley. Actually, to be perfectly honest, we don't know what they're up to. We're working on it, though.

 **Ron.** I see. But you do know their commander personally.

 **Aberforth.** _[smiles]_ That's information again.

 **Ron.** Have it your way. What will this Grand Admiral's name cost me?

 **Aberforth.** For the moment, the name's not for sale. Perhaps we'll talk about it later.

 **Ron.** Thanks. But I don't think there's going to be a later. If you don't mind, we'll just say our goodbyes here and get back to the ship.

 **Aberforth.** _[raises an eyebrow]_ You're not going to finish our dinner? You hardly had a chance to get started.

 **Ron.** I don't especially like sitting on the ground like a practice target when there are Hit Wizards wandering around.

 **Aberforth.** _[cold]_ At the moment, sitting on the ground is preferable to drawing attention in the air. The Ministry cruiser hasn't left orbit yet. Lifting off now would be an open invitation for them to swat you down.

 **Ron.** The _Anglia_ 's outrun Ministry cruisers before. _[hesitates]_ But I suppose it wouldn't hurt us to stick around a little longer. All right, sure. We'll finish dinner.

 **Aberforth.** Good. It will just take a few minutes to get things put back together.

 **Dean.** You took everything apart?

 **Aberforth.** Everything that might have indicated we had guest. The Grand Admiral is highly observant, and I wouldn't have put it past him to know exactly how many of my associates are staying here at the moment.

 **Ron.** Well, while you're getting things ready, I want to go back to the car and check on a couple of things.

 **Aberforth.** _[narrows his eyes]_ But you will be back.

 **Ron.** _[smiles]_ Trust me.

 **Aberforth.** _[shrugs]_ Very well. Watch yourselves, though. The local predators don't normally come this close in to our encampment, but there are exceptions.

 **Ron.** We'll be careful. _[to Dean]_ Come on, Dean.

 _Ron and Dean exit the_ Hog's Head _._

 _Exit Aberforth and Lorcan._

 **Dean.** So what did we forget to do back at the _Anglia_?

 **Ron.** Nothing. I just thought it would be a good time to go check out Aberforth's storage sheds . . . particularly the one that was supposed to have a prisoner in it.

 _Ron and Dean reach the storage sheds._

 **Dean.** Look for a door with a lock, either permanent or temporary.

 **Ron.** Right. That one over there, the one with two doors?

 **Dean.** Could be. Let's take a look.

 _Ron and Dean reach the storage shed, which until recently held Harry and Hedwig._

 _[indicates the lock]_ It's been shot off. Strange.

 **Ron.** Maybe the prisoner had friends. Let's go inside.

 _As he and Dean step inside, Ron takes notice of the power outlet Harry had been messing with previously._

Well, well. Someone's been busy over here.

 **Dean.** Someone's been even busier over here. Come have a look.

 _Ron crouches over by the lock with Dean, both frowning._

 **Ron.** That must have been one hell of a shot.

 **Dean.** _[shakes his head]_ It wasn't a single shot. The stuff in between is mostly intact. Looks like our mysterious prisoner was tampering with the equipment.

 **Ron.** I wonder how he got it open. I'm going to take a look next door.

 _Ron walks over to Hedwig's former cell, but can't get it open._

Uh-oh.

 _Ron tries again, to no avail._

 **Dean.** Wait a second. I see the problem. There's a power supply been half spliced into the works. . . .

 _Dean fixes the problem, and the door slides open._

 **Ron.** Back in a second.

 _Stepping inside, Ron notices the restraining bolt which was once attached to Hedwig._

 _Enter Aberforth._

 _Ron draws his rifle._

 **Aberforth.** You seem to have gotten lost . . . and to have lost General Thomas along the way.

 _Ron lowers his rifle._

 **Ron.** You need to tell your people to put their toys away when they're done. You were holding a droid prisoner, too?

 **Aberforth.** _[smiles]_ I see Lovegood was talking out of turn again. Amazing, isn't it, how so many expert slicers know everything about computers and droids and yet don't know when to keep their mouths shut.

 **Ron.** It's also amazing how so many expert smugglers don't know when to leave a messy deal alone. So what's your Grand Admiral got you doing? Formal slaving, or just random kidnappings?

 **Aberforth.** _[glares at Ron]_ I don't deal in slaves, Weasley. Slaves or kidnapping. Never.

 **Ron.** What was this one, then? An accident?

 **Aberforth.** I didn't ask for him to come into my life, nor did I especially want him there.

 **Ron.** _[snorts]_ You're stretching, Aberforth. What did he do, drop in out of the sky on top of you?

 **Aberforth.** As a matter of fact, that's very nearly the way it happened.

 **Ron.** _[sardonic]_ Oh, well, that's a good reason to lock someone up. Who was he?

 **Aberforth.** That information's not for sale.

 _Dean steps out of the other shed._

 **Dean.** Maybe we don't need to buy it.

 _Aberforth turns._

 **Aberforth.** Ah. There you are. Exploring the other half of the shed, were you?

 **Ron.** Yeah, we don't stay lost very long. _[to Dean]_ What did you find, Dean?

 _Dean holds out a fragment from Harry's artificial arm._

 **Dean.** This. It's a micrel power supply, the kind used for low-draw applications. Our prisoner wired it into the door lock control after the power lines had been burned away. That's how he got out. The manufacturer's logo is small, but readable. Recognize it?

 _Ron examines the Stinchcombe-based logo._

 **Ron.** I've seen it before. But I don't remember where.

 **Dean.** You saw it during the war. t's the logo of the Linfred of Stinchcombe.

 **Ron.** _[eyes widen]_ That's a bio-electronic power supply?

 **Dean.** That's right. Just like the kind that would have been put in, say, an artificial hand.

 _Ron points his rifle at Aberforth._

 **Ron.** _[to Dean]_ There was a droid in here. The skid marks on the floor look just about right for a snowy droid. _[to Aberforth]_ Feel free to join the conversation anytime, Aberforth.

 **Aberforth.** _[sighs]_ What do you want me to say? That Harry Potter was a prisoner here? All right. Consider it said.

 **Ron.** Where is he now?

 **Aberforth.** I thought Lovegood would have told you. He escaped in one of my Cleansweep Elevens, crashing it in the process.

 **Ron.** He what?

 **Aberforth.** He's all right, or at least he was a couple of hours ago. The Hit Wizards who went to investigate said that both wrecks were deserted. I hope that means they're working together to make their way out.

 **Ron.** You don't sound sure of that.

 **Aberforth.** Ginny Weasley was the one who went after him. She has a certain . . . well, why mince words. In point of fact, she wants very much to kill him.

 _Ron exchanges glances with Dean._

 **Ron.** _[startled]_ Why?

 **Aberforth.** _[shakes his head]_ I don't know.

 **Dean.** How did he get here?

 **Aberforth.** As I said, purely by accident. No, I take that back. It wasn't an accident for Ginny. She led us directly to his crippled broomstick.

 **Ron.** How?

 **Aberforth.** Again, I don't know. And before you ask, we had nothing to do with the damage to his broom. He'd burned out both hyperdrive motivators tangling with one of the Ministry's cruisers. If we hadn't picked him up, he'd almost certainly be dead by now.

 **Ron.** Instead of roaming a forest with someone who still wants him that way. Yeah, you're a real hero.

 **Aberforth.** The Ministry wants Potter, Weasley. They want him very badly. If you look carefully, you'll notice that I didn't give him to them.

 **Ron.** Because he escaped first.

 **Aberforth.** He escaped because he was in this shed. And he was in this shed because I didn't want the Ministry stumbling over him during their unannounced visit. You'll also notice that I didn't turn the two of you over to them, either.

 _Ron lowers his rifle._

 **Ron.** I want to see Harry's Firebolt.

 **Aberforth.** Certainly. I'd recommend not going there until tomorrow morning, though. We moved it somewhat farther into the forest than your car. And there will be predators roaming around it in the darkness.

 _Ron hesitates, then nods._

 **Ron.** All right. So what are we going to do about Harry?

 **Aberforth.** _[shakes his head]_ There's nothing we can do for them tonight. Not with Quintapeds roaming the forest and the Grand Admiral still in orbit. Tomorrow . . . We'll have to discuss it, see what we can come up with. _[smiles]_ In the meantime, dinner should be ready by now. If you'll follow me . . .

 _Exit all._


	44. Grindelwald's Plan

**Disclaimer: I am not Timothy Zahn or J.K. Rowling.**

 _Enter Grindelwald and Ogden, on_ Nurmengard _._

 **Grindelwald.** Have you found them, Captain?

 **Ogden.** I'm afraid not, sir. We'd hoped that with the arrival of local nightfall we'd be able to get some results from the infrared sensors. But they don't seem able to penetrate the tree canopy, either.

 **Grindelwald.** _[nods]_ What about that pulse transmission we picked up just after sundown?

 **Ogden.** We were able to confirm that it originated from the approximate location of the crash site. But it was too brief for a precise location check. The encrypt on it is a very strange one. Decrypt thinks it might be a type of counterpart coding. They're still working on it.

 **Grindelwald.** They've tried all the known Army encrypts, I presume.

 **Ogden.** Yes, sir, as per your orders.

 **Grindelwald.** _[nods]_ It looks like we're at something of a stalemate, then, Captain . . . at least as long as they're in the forest. Have you calculated their likely emergence points?

 **Ogden.** There's really only one practical choice. A town called Dufftown, on the edge of the forest and almost directly along their path. It's the only population center anywhere for more than a hundred kilometers. With only the one survival pack between them, they almost have to come out there.

 **Grindelwald.** Excellent. I want you to detail three squads of Hit Wizards to set up an observation post there. They're to assemble and depart ship immediately.

 **Ogden.** Hit Wizards, sir?

 **Grindelwald.** Hit Wizards. Better add half a biker scout unit, too, and three light assault vehicles.

 **Ogden.** _[cautious]_ Yes, sir.

 **Grindelwald.** Dumbledore lied to us, you see. Whatever that little drama was this afternoon, it was not the common pursuit of a common thief. I'd like to know what, in fact, it was.

 **Ogden.** I . . . don't think I follow, sir.

 **Grindelwald.** It's very simple, Captain. The pilot of the chase vehicle never reported in during the pursuit, nor did anyone from Dumbledore's base communicate with him. We know that. We'd have intercepted any such transmissions. No progress reports, no assistance requests. Nothing but complete radio silence. Speculation, Captain?

 **Ogden.** Whatever it was, it was something they didn't want our knowing about. Beyond that . . . I don't know, sir. There could be any number of things they wouldn't want outsiders to know about. They are smugglers, after all.

 **Grindelwald.** Agreed. But now consider the additional fact that Dumbledore refused our invitation to join in the search for Potter . . . and the fact that this afternoon he implied the search was over. _[raises an eyebrow]_ What does that suggest to you, Captain?

 **Ogden.** You mean . . . that was Potter in that Cleansweep?

 **Grindelwald.** An interesting speculation, isn't it? Unlikely, I'll admit. But likely enough to be worth following up on.

 **Ogden.** Yes, sir. Though if we stay here more than another day or two, we may have to move back the Nimbus attack.

 **Grindelwald.** We're not moving Nimbus. Our entire victory campaign against the Army begins there. And I'll not have so complex and far-reaching a schedule altered. Not for Potter, not for anyone else.

 _Grindelwald glances at the statues beside him._

Nimbus art clearly indicates a biannual cyclic pattern, and I want to hit them at their most sluggish point. We'll leave for our rendezvous with the _Slytherin_ and the invisibility cloak test as soon as the troops and vehicles have been dropped. Three squads of Hit Wizards should be adequate to handle Potter, if he is indeed here.

 _Grindelwald returns his gaze to Ogden._

And to handle Dumbledore, if he turns out to be a traitor.

 _Exit all._


	45. The Quintaped

**Disclaimer: I am not Timothy Zahn or J.K. Rowling.**

 _Enter Harry, Ginny, and Hedwig, walking though the forest on the Isle of Drear._

 **Harry.** Reminds me of the Forbidden Forest. A forest always sounds so busy at night.

 **Ginny.** Oh, it's busy, all right. A lot of the animals here are nocturnal, including the Quintapeds.

 **Harry.** Strange. Aberforth's pet Quintapeds seemed wide enough awake in late afternoon.

 _Ginny glances at Harry with grudging respect._

 **Ginny.** Actually, even in the wild they take small naps around the clock. I call them nocturnal because they do most of their hunting at night.

 **Harry.** Maybe we ought to travel at night, then. They'll be hunting us either way. At least then we'd be awake and alert while they were on the prowl.

 **Ginny.** _[shakes her head]_ It would be more trouble than it's worth. We need to be able to see the terrain as far ahead of us as possible if we're going to avoid running into dead ends. Besides, this whole forest is dotted with small clearings.

 **Harry.** Through which a torch beam would show very clearly to an orbiting broom. Point. You seem to know a lot about this place.

 **Ginny.** It wouldn't take more than an observant pilot flying over the forest to see that. _[aside]_ As much as it pains me, he _is_ right. _Know your territory._ That was the first rule that was drilled into me by the Dark Lord. And the second I arrived here, I did precisely that. More than anyone else in Aberforth's organization, I am equipped to survive outside it. So why is it that I'm trying so hard to get back there? I don't owe Aberforth anything . . . at least not any more than he owes me. He would be at perfect liberty to abandon me here and protect himself. _[sighs]_ Except I know he wouldn't. He's going to send search party after search party . . . even if it tries Grindelwald's patience. And if Potter and I don't turn up, the Grand Admiral is going to jump to the wrong conclusion. And I just can't bear the thought of Aberforth in an interrogation cell . . . or worse.

 **Hedwig.** _[beeps and whistles]_

 **Harry.** I think Hedwig's picked up something.

 **Ginny.** _[to Harry, sarcastic]_ No kidding.

 _Ginny flicks on a torch._

 _Enter the Quintaped._

 _As the Quintaped moves forward, Ginny raises her rifle and shoots it in the head. It dies._

Awfully good thing we have your droid's sensors along.

 **Harry.** Well, I wouldn't have known there was any danger without him. Thank you.

 **Ginny.** Forget it.

 **Harry.** Are Aberforth's pet Quintapeds a different species? Or did he have their tails removed?

 _Once again, Ginny is forced to look upon Harry with grudging respect, impressed in spite of herself._

 **Ginny.** The latter. They use those tails as whips. Pretty painful, and there's a mild poison in them, too. At first it was just that Aberforth didn't want his people walking around with whip welts all over them. We found out later that removing the tails also kills a lot of their normal hunting aggression.

 **Harry.** They seemed pretty domestic, even friendly.

 **Ginny.** _[aside]_ Only they hadn't been friendly to Potter. And here, the Quintaped ignored me and gone directly for him. Coincidence? _[to Harry]_ They are. He's thought occasionally about offering them for sale as guard animals. Never gotten around to exploring the potential market.

 **Harry.** Well, you can tell him I'd be glad to serve as a reference. Having looked a Quintaped square in the teeth, I can tell you it's not something the average intruder would like to do twice.

 **Ginny.** _[smirks]_ Get used to it. It's a long way to the edge of the forest.

 **Harry.** I know. Fortunately, you seem to be an excellent shot.

 _Harry lays down and sleeps._

 _Rather than sleep, Ginny removes a bottle of Wideye Potion in order to stay awake, too wary to sleep this close to an enemy. As she does so, she frowns at Harry._

 **Ginny.** _[aside]_ He seems so unworried. Strange. If anyone should have any right to be worried, it is he. Stripped of all his vaunted Auror powers by an island full of hinkypunks, trapped in a forest on a region whose name and location he didn't even know, with the Ministry, the Quintapeds, and myself all lining up for the privilege of killing him. He should by rights be wide-eyed with pumping adrenaline by now. Maybe he's just faking it, hoping I'll lower my guard. It's what I'd do. But then . . . maybe there is more to him than meets the eye. More than just a family name, a political position, and a bag of Auror tricks.

 _Suddenly angry, Ginny reaches for Harry's lightwand._

Yes, of course there is more there. Whatever happened at the end, at that terrible, confused, life-destroying end, it wasn't his Auror tricks that saved him. It was something else, something I'll make sure to find out from him before his own end comes.

 _Ginny takes her dose of Wideye Potion._

No, the Quintapeds aren't going to get Harry Potter. And neither is the Ministry. When the time comes, I'll kill him myself. It's my right, my privilege, my duty.

 _Ginny sits down and waits._

 _Exit all._


	46. Aberforth and Goldstein

**Disclaimer: I am not Timothy Zahn or J.K. Rowling.**

 _Enter Aberforth, with Quintius, outside on the Isle of Drear._

 **Aberforth.** _[aside]_ In a single day, my whole life has turned over.

 _Quintius raises his head._

 _[to Quintius]_ Company?

 _Enter Goldstein._

 **Goldstein.** Aberforth?

 **Aberforth.** Over here. Go get a chair and join me.

 **Goldstein.** This is okay. I've got to get back to Central pretty soon, anyway.

 **Aberforth.** The mystery message?

 **Goldstein.** Yeah. What in the world was Ginny thinking of?

 **Aberforth.** I don't know. Something clever, though.

 **Goldstein.** Probably. I just hope we're going to be clever enough to decrypt it.

 **Aberforth.** _[nods]_ Did Weasley and Thomas get bedded down all right?

 **Goldstein.** _[scowls]_ They went back to their car. I don't think they trust us.

 **Aberforth.** Under the circumstances, you can hardly blame them. Maybe pulling Potter's computer logs tomorrow morning will help convince them we're on their side.

 **Goldstein.** Yeah. Are we?

 **Aberforth.** _[purses his lips]_ We don't really have a choice anymore, Goldstein. They're our guests.

 **Goldstein.** The Grand Admiral isn't going to be happy.

 **Aberforth.** _[shrugs]_ They're our guests.

 _Goldstein shrugs._

I'll want you to organize a search party for tomorrow morning. Probably futile, all things considered, but it has to be tried.

 **Goldstein.** Right. Do we defer to the Ministry in that regard?

 **Aberforth.** _[grimaces]_ I doubt if they'll be doing any more searching. That broom that sneaked out from the Ministry cruiser an hour ago looked suspiciously like a stripped-down assault broom. My guess is that they'll set up in Dufftown and wait for Ginny and Potter to come to them.

 **Goldstein.** Sounds reasonable. What if we don't get to them first?

 **Aberforth.** We'll just have to take them away from the Hit Wizards, I suppose. Think you can put a team together for the purpose?

 **Goldstein.** _[snorts]_ Easier done than said. I've sat in on a couple of conversations since you made the announcement, and I can tell you that feelings in camp are running pretty strong. Hero of the Army and all that aside, a bunch of our people figure they owe Potter big for getting them out of permanent hock to Golgomath the Giant.

 **Aberforth.** I know. And all that warm enthusiasm could be a problem. Because if we can't get Potter free from the Ministry . . . well, we can't let them have him alive.

 **Goldstein.** I see. It probably won't make any difference, you know, in what Grindelwald suspects.

 **Aberforth.** Suspicion is better than unequivocal proof. And if we can't intercept them while they're still in the forest, it may be the best we're going to get.

 **Goldstein.** _[shakes his head]_ I don't like it.

 **Aberforth.** Neither do I. But we need to be prepared for every eventuality.

 **Goldstein.** Understood. _[sighs]_ I'd better get back and see if Lovegood's made any progress on Ginny's message.

 **Aberforth.** And after that you'd better hit the sack. Tomorrow's going to be a busy day.

 **Goldstein.** Right. Good night.

 _Exit Goldstein._

 _Aberforth shakes his head._

 **Aberforth.** _[aside]_ What was Ginny trying to do with that opaque message of hers? Is it something simple, something that he or someone else here ought to be able to decrypt with ease? Or has the witch who always plays the Exploding Snap cards close to her chest finally outsmarted herself?

 _In the distance, a Quintaped cries out, causing Quintius to look up._

 _[to Quintius]_ Friend of yours? _[aside]_ Quintius and MacBoon were like that once before they were domesticated . . . just as Ginny was. I wonder sometimes if she ever will be similarly tamed. I wonder if she'll solve this whole problem by killing Potter first.

 _A Quintaped growls again, closer this time._

 _[to Quintius]_ Come on, Quintius. Time to go inside.

 _Exit all._


	47. Amarillo clan Lestoat

**Disclaimer: I am not Timothy Zahn or J.K. Rowling.**

 _Awaking in Minsk, Hermione reaches for her rifle, sensing danger._

 **Hermione.** _[curses]_ We should have left Minsk before now. We've gotten too complacent.

 _Hermione sets down her rifle and reaches for her transceiver._

 _Enter Amarillo clan Lestoat, a male vampire with a man of golden hair, who grabs Hermione's wrist._

 _Instinctively, Hermione kicks Amarillo backward and grabbed her lightwand. She ignited the blade._

 _Releasing his grip on her wrist, Amarillo knocks Hermione's lightwand out of her hand. Then he grabs hold of her once more, using his hand to cover her mouth, wrapping his leg around Hermione's own to prevent any attempt to kick him again. This close, Amarillo's keen sense of smell detects something familiar about Hermione, and the vampire backs off, releasing Hermione._

 **Amarillo.** Magbob.

 _Enter Hagrid and Grawp._

 _Hagrid grabs Amarillo's throat._

 **Hermione.** Don't kill him.

 _Hagrid releases Amarillo's throat and throws him across the room instead. The vampire passes out._

 _Hermione retrieves her lightwand._

Come on. There may be more of them.

 **Grawp.** Not anymore. The other three have been dealt with.

 **Hermione.** Are you sure?

 _Hermione approaches Grawp and sees blood._

You're hurt. Rifle?

 **Grawp.** Stun weapon. A quieter weapon, but it was set too low for half-giants. I am only a little weak. It is Rubeus who is wounded.

 _It is only now that Hermione, startled, notices this._

 **Hermione.** Hagrid?

 _Hagrid waves her off._

 **Hagrid.** _[impatient]_ Don't worry about me. It you who matters now.

 **Grawp.** He is right. We must get you away from here before the second attack comes.

 _Hermione hears the cry of a half-giant in the distance._

 **Hermione.** There won't be a second attack. They've been noticed. There will be people converging on this house in minutes.

 **Grawp.** Not on this house. There is a fire four houses away.

 **Hermione.** A diversion. They set a house on fire to mask any alert you try to make.

 **Hagrid.** Exactly.

 **Grawp.** We must get you away from here.

 _Hermione looks back and forth between Hagrid and Grawp, searching for Fang._

 **Hermione.** Where's Fang?

 **Grawp.** _[hesitates]_ He did not survive the attack.

 **Hermione.** I'm sorry.

 **Grawp.** As are we. But the time for mourning is not now.

 _Hermione nods._

 _Hermione, Hagrid, and Grawp move out of the house._

 **Hermione.** The creatures seem to want me alive. If we can get the sled into the sky, they probably won't try to shoot us down.

 **Grawp.** Do you trust the sled?

 **Hermione.** _[aside]_ No, of course not. The first thing these creatures would have done would be to sabotage any escape. _[to the half-giants]_ I'll need some rope, strong enough to hold my weight, as much as you've got.

 **Grawp.** You cannot be serious. The danger would be great even for a half-giant. For a human it would be suicide.

 **Hermione.** I don't think so. I saw how the branches twist together when we looked at the bottom of the city. It should be possible for me to climb along between them.

 **Grawp.** You will never reach the landing platform alone. We will come with you.

 **Hermione.** You're in no shape to travel down the street, let alone underneath it. _[retrieves her rifle]_ Neither is Hagrid. Get out of my way please.

 **Grawp.** _[doesn't move]_ You do not fool us, Hermione Granger Weasley. You believe that if we stay here the enemy will follow you and leave us in peace.

 **Hermione.** _[grimaces]_ There's a good chance they will. It's me they want. And they want me alive.

 **Grawp.** There is no time to argue. We will stay together. Here, or under the city.

 **Hermione.** _[sighs]_ All right. You win. _[glances at the unconscious Amarillo briefly]_ Let's find some rope and get moving.

 _Hermione ignites her lightwand and cuts a hole into the surface of Minsk's capital city._

 **Grawp.** I will go first.

 _Grawp drops into the hole._

 **Hermione.** _[to Hagrid]_ Last chance to change your mind about this arrangement.

 **Hagrid.** Rarrghh.

 **Grawp.** All clear.

 _With Hermione strapped to his torso, Hagrid makes his way down the hole. For a moment, Hermione and the half-giants move down the hole. Then abruptly they freeze._

 **Hermione.** What's wrong?

 **Grawp.** The enemy has found us.

 _Hermione notices a nearby broom._

 **Hermione.** It couldn't be a half-giant rescue broom, I don't suppose.

 **Hagrid.** No. The broomstick isn't showing even running lights.

 **Grawp.** Yet it does not approach.

 **Hermione.** They want me alive. They don't want to spook us. _[glances around]_ I need the rest of the rope, all of it.

 _Hermione takes the rope and ties it to one of the small branches._

 **Hagrid.** Rrrhgh, aragh. Rarr?

 **Hermione.** No, I'm not belaying us. So don't fall. I've got something else in mind. Okay, let's go.

 _Hermione and the half-giants move through Minsk._

Get ready. Now . . . stop.

 _Hermione attaches her lightwand to the rope and lets it drop. The lightwand flies toward the broom and severs the repulsorlift engine. The broom falls from the sky._

Let's go retrieve the lightwand. After that, I think we can probably just cut our way back up. I doubt there are any of them left now.

 **Grawp.** And then directly to your ship?

 _Thinking about Amarillo, Hermione hesitates._

 **Hermione.** Back to the ship. But not directly.

 _Hermione, Hagrid, and Grawp arrive at a local Minsk police station, where Amarillo is being held in interrogation._

 **Hagrid.** I don't like this.

 **Hermione.** I don't much like it either. But he let me go back at the house before you came in. I want to know . . . I _need_ to know what that was all about. You can watch and listen from here. Don't come in unless I'm in trouble.

 _Hermione clips her lightwand to her belt and hands Hagrid her rifle. Then she steps into the interrogation room._

 _Enter Amarillo._

I'm Hermione Granger Weasley. You wanted to talk to me?

 **Amarillo.** Your hand. May I have it?

 _Hermione offers her hand, and Amarillo sniffs it._

It is then true. I was not mistaken before.

 _Amarillo kneels before Hermione._

I seek forgiveness, Hermione Granger Weasley, for my action. Our orders did not identify you, but gave only your name.

 **Hermione.** I understand. But now you know who I am?

 **Amarillo.** You are the Magbob. The daughter and heir of the Lord Severus Snape . . . he who was our master.

 **Hermione.** Your master?

 **Amarillo.** He who came to us in our desperate need, who lifted us from our despair and gave us hope.

 **Hermione.** I see. You may rise. What is your name?

 **Amarillo.** _[rising]_ I am called Amarillo by our Lord. In the language of the vampires . . . _[speaks the ancient vampire tongue]_

 **Hermione.** I'll call you Amarillo. Your people are called the vampires?

 **Amarillo.** Yes. _[uncertain]_ But you are the Magbob.

 **Hermione.** My father had many secrets. You, obviously, were one of them. You said he brought you hope. Tell me how.

 **Amarillo.** He came to us . . . after the mighty battle, after the destruction.

 **Hermione.** What battle?

 **Amarillo.** Two great broomships met in the space over our region . . . perhaps more than two. We never knew for certain. They fought all the day and much of the night. And when the battle was over, our land was devastated.

 **Hermione.** _[winces]_ We never hurt non-Ministry forces or regions on purpose. Whatever happened, it was an accident.

 **Amarillo.** The Lord Snape did not think so. He believed it was done on purpose, to drive fear and terror into the souls of the Dark Lord's enemies.

 **Hermione.** Then the Lord Snape was mistaken. Our battle was with the Dark Lord, not his subjugated servants.

 **Amarillo.** _[stiff]_ We were not the Dark Lord's servants. We were a simple people, content to live our lives without concern for the dealings of others.

 **Hermione.** You serve the Ministry now.

 **Amarillo.** In return for the Dark Lord's help. Only he came to our aid when we so desperately needed it. In his memory, we serve his designated heir, the man to whom the Lord Snape long ago entrusted us.

 **Hermione.** I find it difficult to believe the Dark Lord ever really cared about you. That's not the sort of man he was. All he cared about was obtaining your service against us.

 **Amarillo.** Only he came to our aid.

 **Hermione.** Because we were unaware of your plight.

 **Amarillo.** So you say.

 **Hermione.** _[raises an eyebrow]_ Then give me a chance to prove it. Tell me where your region is.

 **Amarillo.** _[backs away]_ That is impossible. You would seek us out and complete the destruction . . .

 **Hermione.** Amarillo. Who am I?

 **Amarillo.** You are the Lady Snape, the Magbob.

 **Hermione.** Did the Lord Snape ever lie to you?

 **Amarillo.** You said he did.

 **Hermione.** I said he was mistaken. Even the Lord Snape could be deceived. And the Dark Lord was a master of deception.

 **Amarillo.** The Lord Snape served the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord would not have lied to him.

 **Hermione.** Is your new lord equally honest with you?

 **Amarillo.** _[hesitates]_ I don't know.

 **Hermione.** Yes, you do. You said yourself he didn't tell you who it was you'd been sent to capture.

 **Amarillo.** I am only a soldier, milady. These matters are far beyond my authority and ability. My duty is to obey my orders, all of my orders.

 _Hermione frowns, as she realizes the meaning behind Amarillo's words._

 **Hermione.** Yet you now know something of which none of your people are aware. You must live to bring this information to them.

 **Amarillo.** The Lord Snape could read the souls of the vampires. You are indeed his Magbob.

 **Hermione.** Your people need you, Amarillo. As do I. Your death now would only hurt those you seek to help.

 **Amarillo.** How is it you need me?

 **Hermione.** Because I need your help if I'm to do anything for your people. You must tell me the location of your region.

 **Amarillo.** I cannot. To do so could bring ultimate destruction upon my home . . . and upon me if it were learned I had given you such information.

 **Hermione.** _[purses her lips]_ Then take me there.

 **Amarillo.** I cannot.

 **Hermione.** Why not?

 **Amarillo.** I . . . cannot.

 **Hermione.** I am the daughter, the Magbob, of the Lord Severus Snape. By your own admission, he was the hope of your region. Have matters improved since he delivered you to your new leader?

 **Amarillo.** _[hesitates]_ No. He has told us there is little more that he or anyone else can do.

 **Hermione.** I would prefer to judge that for myself. Or would your people consider a single human to be such a threat?

 **Amarillo.** You would come alone? To a people seeking your capture?

 **Hermione.** I trust your people to be honorable. I trust them to grant me a hearing.

 _Hermione steps toward the door._

Consider my offer. Discuss it with those whose counsel you value. Then if you choose, meet me in orbit above the Forbidden Forest in one month's time.

 **Amarillo.** You will come alone?

 **Hermione.** I will come alone. Will you?

 **Amarillo.** If I come, I will come alone.

 **Hermione.** _[nods]_ I hope to see you there. Farewell.

 **Amarillo.** Farewell . . . Lady Snape.

 _Hermione exits the interrogation room._

 _Exit Amarillo._

 **Hagrid.** _[angry]_ Rarrrgghh aughgg rrrggh.

 **Hermione.** I can't say I'm really happy with it either. But we can't dodge them forever. If we have even a chance of getting them out from under Ministry control . . .

 **Hagrid.** Arrrgghh.

 **Hermione.** I know. I wasn't as close to Fang as you were, but he was still my friend.

 _Hagrid stomps off, conflicted._

 **Grawp.** It is time. The memorial period has begun. We must join the others.

 **Hagrid.** Arrghh.

 _Hagrid moves to join Grawp._

 _Hermione glances at Grawp._

 **Grawp.** This period is for half-giants only. Later, you will be permitted to join us.

 **Hermione.** I understand. If you need me, I'll be on the landing platform, getting the _Felix Felicis_ ready to fly.

 **Grawp.** _[doubtful]_ If you truly feel it is safe to leave.

 **Hermione.** It is. _[aside]_ And even if it's not, we have no choice. I now have a species name: _vampire_. And it is vital that I return to London and get another records search underway.

 **Grawp.** Very well. The mourning period will begin in two hours.

 **Hermione.** I'll be there.

 _Exit all._


	48. Ginny's Confession

**Disclaimer: I am not Timothy Zahn or J.K. Rowling.**

 _Enter Harry, Ginny, and Hedwig (pulled along on a travois), on the Isle of Drear._

 _As they approach a tangle of vines, Ginny fingers Harry's lightwand to clear a path._

 **Ginny.** Just keep your shirt on. This will only take a minute.

 **Harry.** You really don't have to go for finesse, you know. It's not like the lightwand's running low on power.

 **Ginny.** Yes, but we're running low on forest. You have any idea how far the hum of a lightwand can carry in woods like this?

 **Harry.** Not really.

 **Ginny.** Me neither. I'd like to keep it that way.

 _Ginny ignites the lightwand and cuts through the vines, then deactivates it._

That wasn't so hard, now, was it?

 _Ginny hooks the lightwand to her belt._

 **Hedwig.** _[beeps and whistles]_

 _Harry and Ginny turn._

 _Enter the Quintaped._

 _Ginny raises her rifle and shoots it. It dies._

 **Harry.** I wish you'd change your mind about giving me back my lightwand. You must be getting tired of shooting Quintapeds off me.

 **Ginny.** What, you afraid I'm going to miss?

 **Harry.** You're an excellent shot. But you've also gone two nights without any sleep. That's going to catch up with you eventually.

 **Ginny.** You just worry about yourself. Come on. Get moving. We need to find someplace clear enough to send up the sonde balloon.

 _Harry, pulling Hedwig along on the travois, follows after Ginny as they continue their journey._

 **Hedwig.** _[beeps and whistles]_

 _As Harry moves along, he nearly tips Hedwig over._

 **Ginny.** So who's getting tired now? That's the third time in the past hour.

 **Harry.** It's just my hand. It seems to be permanently numb this afternoon.

 **Ginny.** Sure.

 _Harry, Ginny, and Hedwig move into a clearing._

There's our hole. Put the droid in the middle.

 _Harry sets Hedwig down in the center of the clearing, as Ginny sets up the sonde balloon._

All set.

 _Exhausted, Harry has fallen asleep._

 _Ginny snorts with contempt._

Auror. _[to Hedwig]_ Come on. Let's get going.

 _Hedwig glances at Harry._

 **Hedwig.** _[beeps and whistles]_

 **Ginny.** _[harsh]_ I said let's get going.

 **Hedwig.** _[beeps and whistles]_

 _Hedwig performs a message dump from the far-off Firebolt's computer._

 _[squeals excitedly]_

 **Ginny.** What?

 _Ginny draws her rifle and looks around._

What, there's finally a message?

 **Hedwig.** Affirmative.

 **Ginny.** Well, let's have it. _[impatient]_ Come on. If there's anything in it he needs to hear, you can play it for him later.

 _Enter the Floo image of Percy._

 **Percy.** Good day, Master Harry. I bring greetings to you from Captain Dumbledore . . . and, of course, to you as well, Mistress Ginevra. He and Captain Weasley are most pleased to hear you are both alive and well after your accident.

 **Ginny.** _[aside]_ Captain Weasley? What in Merlin's name does Aberforth think he's doing? Did he actually tell Weasley and Thomas about Potter?

 **Percy.** I trust you'll be able to decrypt this message, Hedwig. Captain Dumbledore suggested that I be used to add a bit more confusion to the counterpart encrypt. According to him, there are Ministry Hit Wizards waiting in Dufftown for you to make your appearance.

 **Ginny.** _[curses]_ So Grindelwald wasn't fooled. He knows Potter is here and is waiting to take us both. _[forces herself to calm down]_ No. Grindelwald doesn't know . . . not for sure. He only suspects. If he knew for sure, there wouldn't be anyone left back at the camp to send us this message.

 **Percy.** The story Captain Dumbledore told the Ministry is that a former employee stole valuable merchandise and tried to escape . . . with a current employee named Weasley in pursuit. He suggests that, since he never specified Weasley as being a witch, that perhaps you and Mistress Ginevra could switch roles when you leave the forest.

 **Ginny.** _[sarcastic]_ Right.

 **Percy.** At any rate, he says he and Captain Weasley are working out a plan to try to intercept you before the Hit Wizards do. If not, they will do their best to rescue you from them. I'm afraid there's nothing more I can say at the moment. Captain Dumbledore has put a one-minute real-time limit on this message to prevent anyone from locating the transmission point. He wishes you good luck. Take good care of Master Harry, Hedwig . . . and yourself, too.

 _Exit Percy._

 _Harry awakes, having heard the entire message._

 **Harry.** It's a good idea.

 **Ginny.** _[glares at Harry]_ I thought you were faking.

 **Harry.** Not faking. Drifting in and out. It's still a good idea.

 **Ginny.** _[snorts]_ Forget it. We'll try going a couple of kilometers north instead, circling out and back to Dufftown from the plains. _[glances at her watch]_ We might as well save that for tomorrow. You want to get . . .

 _Ginny notices that Harry has drifted off again._

Oh, never mind. _[to Hedwig]_ Stay put.

 _Ginny turns to set up camp._

 **Hedwig.** _[shrieks]_

 _Ginny turns, rifle raised, as a Quintaped pounces on top of her._

 _Harry awakes, alert._

 _Rising to his feet, Harry imitates the cry of a Chinese Fireball._

 _Startled, the Quintaped turns toward Harry. As it turns back toward Ginny, Harry howls again, and Ginny seizes her chance. She twists around onto her back and grips the Quintaped's throat._

 _Pushing off from a nearby tree, Harry charges at the Quintaped, but its tail knocks the Auror backwards. As he struggles to his feet, the Quintaped advances. Hedwig approaches and tries to attack the Quintaped, but the monster snaps the welder in two._

 **Harry.** Hedwig. Next time that tail hits you, try to grab it.

 **Hedwig.** All right.

 _As the Quintaped swings its tail her direction, Hedwig grabs hold of it. She screams as the Quintaped tears its tail free, nearly taking Hedwig's arm with it. Using this distraction to his advantage, Harry retrieves his lightwand and ignites it._

 _As the Quintaped turns back to him, Harry slashes at its nose with his lightwand. The monster screams in pain, as Harry uses his lightwand to drive the creature back. As the Quintaped lunges at Harry, he swings the lightwand and cuts it in half._

 **Ginny.** _[rising]_ About time. What in blazes was that stupid game you were playing?

 **Harry.** I didn't think you'd like your hands cut off if I missed.

 _Ginny retrieves her rifle._

 **Ginny.** Just drop the lightwand and move back.

 _Harry deactivates his lightwand and sighs._

 **Harry.** _[shakes his head]_ I don't believe you. Or didn't you notice that Hedwig and I just saved your life?

 **Ginny.** I noticed. Thanks.

 _Ginny retrieves the lightwand._

I figure that's my reward for not shooting you two days ago. Get over there and sit down.

 **Harry.** Do you mind if I look at Hedwig first?

 _Ginny glances at Hedwig._

 **Ginny.** Sure. Go ahead.

 _Harry checks on Hedwig, only to find that she is not as bad off as he feared._

Well?

 **Harry.** She's okay for now. She's been damaged worse than this before.

 **Ginny.** I'm so glad to hear it. _[glances at Harry]_ He got you good, didn't he?

 **Harry.** I'll be all right."

 **Ginny.** _[snorts]_ Sure you will. I forgot. You're a hero, too.

 _Harry studies Ginny as she applies dittany to her wounds._

I said thanks already. What do you want, a medal?

 **Harry.** _[shakes his head]_ I just want to know what happened to you.

 **Ginny.** _[angry]_ You happened to me. You came out of a grubby sixth-rate farm on a tenth-rate region and destroyed my life.

 **Harry.** How?

 **Ginny.** _[contemptuous]_ You don't have the faintest idea who I am, do you?

 **Harry.** _[shakes his head]_ I'm sure I'd remember you if we'd met.

 **Ginny.** _[sardonic]_ Oh, right. The great omniscient Auror. See all, hear all, know all, understand all. No, we didn't actually meet. But I was there, if you'd bothered to notice me. I was a dancer at Golgomath the Giant's palace the day you came for Weasley.

 **Harry.** You weren't just a dancer, though. That was only a cover.

 **Ginny.** Very good. That vaunted Auror insight, no doubt. Keep going. You're doing so well. What was I really doing there?

 **Harry.** You were waiting for me. Snape knew I'd go there to try and rescue Ron. And he sent you to capture me.

 **Ginny.** _[scoffs]_ _Snape?_ Don't make me laugh. Snape was a fool and skating on the edge of treason along with it. My Master sent me to Golgomath's to kill you, not recruit you.

 **Harry.** _[with a chill]_ And your Master was the Dark Lord.

 **Ginny.** Yes. And you destroyed him.

 **Harry.** You're wrong, though. He did try to recruit me.

 **Ginny.** Only because I failed. And only when Snape had you standing right there in front of him. What, you don't think he knew Snape had offered to help you overthrow him?

 **Harry.** I don't think it was a serious offer.

 **Ginny.** The Dark Lord did. He knew. And what he knew, I knew. I was his Hand, Potter. That's how I was known to his inner court: as the Dark Lord's Hand. I served him all over the galaxy, doing jobs the Ministry fleet and Hit Wizards couldn't handle. That was my one great talent, you see. I could hear his call from anywhere in the Ministry and report back to him the same way. I exposed traitors for him, brought down his enemies, helped him keep the kind of control over the mindless bureaucracies that he needed. I had prestige and power and respect. And you took it all away from me. If only for that, you deserve to die.

 **Harry.** What went wrong?

 **Ginny.** Golgomath wouldn't let me go with the execution party. That was it, pure and simple. I tried begging, cajoling, bargaining. I couldn't change his mind.

 **Harry.** No. Golgomath was highly resistant to the mind-controlling aspects of the Magic.

 _Harry looks away, as he recalls the vision of Ginny he saw at Mould-on-the-Would._

You would have succeeded.

 **Ginny.** _[glares at Harry]_ I'm not asking for understanding or sympathy. You wanted to know. Fine. Now you know.

 **Harry.** So why are you here? Why not with the Ministry?

 **Ginny.** _[snorts]_ What Ministry? It's dying. You know that as well as I do.

 **Harry.** But while it's still there . . .

 **Ginny.** Who would I go to? They didn't know me. None of them did. Not as the Dark Lord's Hand, anyway. I was a shadow, working outside the normal lines of command and protocol. There were no records kept of my activities. Those few I was formally introduced to thought of me as court-hanging froth, a minor bit of mobile decoration kept around the palace to amuse the Dark Lord. There was nowhere for me to go after the Forbidden Forest. No contacts, no resources. I didn't even have a real identity anymore. I was on my own.

 **Harry.** And so you linked up with Aberforth.

 **Ginny.** Eventually. First I spent four and a half years sloshing around the rotten underfringes of the galaxy, doing whatever I could. I worked hard to get where I am, Potter. You're not going to ruin it for me. Not this time.

 **Harry.** I don't want to ruin anything for you. All I want is to get back to the Wizards' Council.

 **Ginny.** And I want the old Ministry back. We don't always get what we want, do we?

 **Harry.** _[shakes his head]_ No. We don't.

 _Ginny glares at Harry and tosses the dittany at him._

 **Ginny.** Here. Get that welt fixed up. And get some sleep. Tomorrow's going to be a busy day.

 _Exit all._


	49. Ogden's Concerns

**Disclaimer: I am not Timothy Zahn or J.K. Rowling.**

 _Enter Grindelwald and Ogden, on_ Nurmengard _._

 _Grindelwald and Ogden test the Cloak of Invisibility they recovered from Horcrux on a battered broomship._

 **Grindelwald.** It looks good, Captain. Exactly the way it should. You may proceed with the test when ready.

 **Ogden.** It'll be a few more minutes yet, sir. The technicians are still having some problems getting the invisibility cloak tuned.

 **Grindelwald.** _[nods]_ There's time. What word from the Isle of Drear?

 **Ogden.** The last regular report came in two hours ago. Still negative.

 **Grindelwald.** _[nods]_ And the latest count from Nimbus?

 **Ogden.** Er . . .

 _Ogden searches for the appropriate file._

A hundred twelve transient broomships in all. Sixty-five being used as cargo carriers, the others on escort duty.

 **Grindelwald.** Sixty-five. Excellent. It means we get to pick and choose.

 **Ogden.** _[shifts uncomfortably]_ Yes, sir.

 **Grindelwald.** You have a concern, Captain?

 _Ogden glances at the broomship._

 **Ogden.** I don't like sending them into enemy territory without any communications.

 **Grindelwald.** We don't have much choice in the matter. That's how an invisibility cloak works: nothing gets out, nothing gets in . . . assuming, of course, that it works at all.

 **Ogden.** Yes, sir. But . . .

 **Grindelwald.** But what, Captain?

 **Ogden.** It seems to me, Admiral, that this is the sort of operation we ought to use Crouch on.

 **Grindelwald.** Crouch?

 **Ogden.** Yes, sir. He could give us communications with . . .

 **Grindelwald.** We don't need communications, Captain. Careful timing will be adequate for our purposes.

 **Ogden.** I disagree, Admiral. Under normal circumstances, yes, careful timing would get them into position. But there's no way to anticipate how long it will take to get clearance from Nimbus Control.

 **Grindelwald.** On the contrary. I've studied the Nimbus very carefully. I can anticipate exactly how long it will take them to clear the broom.

 **Ogden.** If the controllers were all Nimbus, perhaps. But with the Army funneling so much of their own material through the Nimbus region, they're bound to have some of their own people in Control, as well.

 **Grindelwald.** It's of no consequence. The Nimbus will be in charge. Their timing will determine events.

 **Ogden.** _[sighs]_ Yes, sir.

 **Grindelwald.** It's not a question of bravado, Captain, or of proving that the Ministry fleet can function without him. The simple fact of the matter is that we can't afford to use Crouch too much or too often.

 **Ogden.** _[angry]_ Because we'll start depending on him, as if we were all implanted into a combat computer.

 **Grindelwald.** _[smiles]_ That still bothers you, doesn't it? No matter. That's part of it, but only a very small part. What concerns me more is that we don't give Mr. Crouch too much of a taste for this kind of power.

 **Ogden.** _[frowns]_ He said he doesn't want power.

 **Grindelwald.** _[cold]_ Then he lies. All men want power. And the more they have, the more they want.

 **Ogden.** But if he's a threat to us . . .

 **Grindelwald.** Why not dispose of him? It's very simple. Because we'll soon have the ability to fill his taste for power to the fullest. And once we've done so, he'll be no more of a threat than any other tool.

 **Ogden.** Hermione Granger Weasley and her twins?

 **Grindelwald.** Exactly. Once Crouch has them in his hand, these little excursions with the fleet will be no more to him than distracting interludes that take him away from his real work.

 **Ogden.** That assumes, of course, that the vampires are ever able to connect with her.

 **Grindelwald.** They will. She and her guardians will eventually run out of tricks . . . certainly long before we run out of vampires.

 _Ogden glances back at the screen._

 **Ogden.** They're ready, sir.

 **Grindelwald.** At your convenience, Captain.

 **Ogden.** _[into the transceiver]_ Invisibility cloak, activate.

 _The technicians do as Ogden orders._

 _Grindelwald watches the broomship with satisfaction._

 **Grindelwald.** Excellent, Captain. Precisely what I wanted. I congratulate you and your technicians.

 **Ogden.** Thank you, sir. Then I take it the light is green?

 **Grindelwald.** The light is green, Captain. Alert the task force. Prepare to move to the rendezvous point. The Nimbus broom company is ours.

 _Exit all._


	50. Neville's New Mission

**Disclaimer: I am not Timothy Zahn or J.K. Rowling.**

 _Enter Neville and Stan Shunpike, in London._

 **Neville.** You've got to be kidding. Escort duty?

 **Stan.** What's the big deal? You guys are Firebolts. You do escort all the time.

 **Neville.** We escort people. We don't watchdog cargo brooms.

 **Stan.** _[annoyed]_ Look, Commander, don't dump it on me. It's a standard broom escort. What's the difference whether the broom's got people or a break-down reactor aboard?

 _Neville glances away._

 **Neville.** _[aside]_ It's a matter of professional pride. That's what the difference is. _[to Stan]_ Nimbus has a pretty long haul for Firebolts.

 **Stan.** Yeah, well, the spec line says you'll be staying aboard the broom until you actually hit the region. You'll just ride him in from there.

 **Neville.** We're going to be a long time away from London with this.

 **Stan.** I'd look on that as a plus if I were you, Commander. Something here's coming to a head. I think Senator Scrimgeour and his people are about to make their move.

 **Neville.** You don't mean . . . a coup?

 **Stan.** No, of course not. What do you think Scrimgeour is . . . ? _[with realization]_ Oh, I got it. You're one of Murcus's diehards, huh? Face it, Commander: Murcus has lost whatever touch he ever had with the common fighting man of the Army. Scrimgeour's the only one on the Wizengamot who really cares about our welfare. _[indicates the file in front of him]_ Case in point. All this rubbish came down from Murcus's office.

 **Neville.** Yeah, well, there's still a Ministry out there. _[sighs]_ When do we leave?

 **Stan.** Soon as you can get your people together and aboard. They're already loading your brooms.

 **Neville.** Right. _[aside]_ Well, this won't be so bad. At least I'll be away from the politics going on here. And if the Ministry comes at me while I'm away . . . well, at least that will give me something to take my aggression out on.

 _Exit all._


	51. Deception

**Disclaimer: I am not Timothy Zahn or J.K. Rowling.**

 _As Harry and Ginny make their way out of the forest on the Isle of Drear, they begin to hear the sounds of Ministry brooms._

 **Ginny.** You're sure that's a military model?

 **Harry.** I'm sure. I nearly ran one of them into a tree in the Forbidden Forest.

 **Ginny.** Sounds like they're off to the south, too. North . . . I don't hear anything from that direction.

 **Harry.** Neither do I. I wonder . . . _[to Hedwig]_ Hedwig, can you make up an audio map for us?

 _From Hedwig, a map of the Isle of Drear materializes before them._

 **Ginny.** I was right. A few units directly ahead of us, the rest off to the south. Nothing at all north.

 **Harry.** Which means we must have veered to the north.

 **Ginny.** _[frowns]_ How do you figure that?

 **Harry.** Well, they must know we'll make for Dufftown. They're bound to center their search on the direct approach.

 **Ginny.** _[smiles]_ Such wonderful Auror naivete. I don't suppose you considered the fact that just because we can't hear them doesn't mean they aren't there.

 **Harry.** _[frowns]_ Well, of course they could have a force lying in wait there. But what would it gain them?

 **Ginny.** Oh, come on, Potter. It's the oldest tactical trick in the book. If the perimeter looks impossible to crack, the quarry goes to ground and waits for a better opportunity. You don't want him to do that, so you give him what looks like a possible way through. In this case, they get a bonus: if we swing north to avoid the obvious brooms, it's instant proof that we've got something to hide from them.

 **Harry.** _[grimaces]_ Not that they really need any proof.

 **Ginny.** _[shrugs]_ Some officers are more legal-minded than others. The question is, what do we do now?

 **Harry.** They're probably going to try to ring us. Move units around to the north and south, and eventually behind us.

 **Ginny.** If they haven't done so already. No reason we would have heard them. They don't know exactly how fast we're moving, so they'll have made it a big circle. Probably using a wide ring of assault brooms or hoverscouts with a group of broomsticks working around each focal point. It's the standard Hit Wizard format for a web.

 **Harry.** So how do we break out?

 **Ginny.** We don't. Not without a lot more equipment and resources than we've got.

 **Harry.** In that case, we might as well go straight up the middle. Call to them before they see us, maybe.

 **Ginny.** _[snorts]_ Like we were casual tourists out here with nothing to hide?

 **Harry.** You have a better idea?"

 **Ginny.** _[glares at Harry]_ Not really. I suppose you're also going to want to do that role-switch thing Aberforth suggested.

 **Harry.** _[shrugs]_ We're not going to be able to blast our way through them. And if you're right about that pincer movement, we're not going to sneak through them, either. All that's left is a bluff. And the better a bluff it is, the better chance we've got.

 **Ginny.** I suppose so.

 _Ginny unloads the rifle and hands it to Harry._

 **Harry.** They may check to see if it's loaded. I would.

 **Ginny.** Look, Potter, if you think I'm going to give you a loaded weapon . . .

 **Harry.** And if another Quintaped finds us before the Ministry does, you'll never get it reloaded fast enough.

 **Ginny.** Maybe I don't care.

 **Harry.** _[nods]_ Maybe you don't.

 _Ginny glares at Harry, then reloads the rifle and hands it back to Harry._

Thank you. _[to Hedwig]_ Now. Hedwig?

 _Hedwig opens the same storage compartment within herself where she once stored Harry's lightwand. He holds his hand out to Ginny, who hands him the lightwand._

 **Ginny.** So that's how you did it. I always wondered how you smuggled that thing into Golgomath's.

 _Harry places the lightwand inside Hedwig, and she seals the compartment._

 **Harry.** _[to Hedwig]_ I'll call for it if I need it.

 **Ginny.** Don't count on being very good with it. The hinkypunk effect is supposed to extend several kilometers past the edge of the forest. None of those little attack-anticipation tricks will work anywhere near Dufftown.

 **Harry.** I understand. I guess we're ready to go, then.

 **Ginny.** Not quite. There's still that face of yours.

 **Harry.** _[raises an eyebrow]_ I don't think Hedwig's got anywhere to hide that.

 **Ginny.** Funny. I had something else in mind.

 _Ginny takes out a pair of leaves in the forest._

Pull up your sleeve and hold out your arm.

 _Harry rolls up his sleeves, and Ginny rubs the leaves onto his forearm._

Now. Let's see if this works.

 **Harry.** What exactly is it supposed to . . . O!

 _Due to an allergic reaction, a rash spreads across Harry's arm._

 **Ginny.** Perfect. You're allergic as anything to them. Oh, relax. The pain will be gone in a few seconds.

 **Harry.** Oh, thanks. Right. Now, what about this . . . this blasted itch?

 **Ginny.** That'll hang on a little longer. But never mind that. What do you think?

 **Harry.** Looks disgusting.

 **Ginny.** Sure does. You want to do it yourself, or you want me to do it for you?

 **Harry.** I can do it.

 _Harry rubs the leaves onto his face. Due to the rash and pustules it creates, his face is completely disguised._

I hope I didn't get it too close to my eyes. It would be handy to be able to see the rest of the afternoon.

 **Ginny.** I think you'll be all right. The rest of your face is pretty horrendous, though. You won't look anything like whatever pictures they have; that's for sure.

 **Harry.** Glad to hear it. How long will I look like this?

 **Ginny.** The puffiness should start going down in a few hours. It won't be completely gone until tomorrow.

 **Harry.** Good enough. We ready, then?

 **Ginny.** As ready as we'll ever be. Come on.

 _Harry and Ginny, with the latter pulling Hedwig's travois, move onward. Harry holds the rifle to Ginny's back in order to complete the deception. As they come out of the forest, they are intercepted by two Hit Wizard scouts._

 **First Scout.** Halt. Identify yourselves, in the name of the Ministry.

 **Harry.** Boy, am I glad you showed up. You don't happen to have some sort of transport handy, do you? I'm about walked off my feet.

 **First Scout.** _[hesitates]_ Identify yourself.

 **Harry.** My name's Weasley. I've got a gift here for Aberforth Dumbledore. I don't suppose he sent some transport, did he?

 _Thrown by the gender of the prisoner, the scouts confer amongst themselves, then turn back to Harry and Ginny._

 **First Scout.** You'll come with us. Our officer wants to talk to you. You - woman - put the droid down and move away from it.

 _Ginny moves away from Hedwig, as the second scout maneuvers his broom toward the travois._

 **Harry.** Fine with me. But I want both of you to witness, for the record, that I had her fair and square before you showed up. Dumbledore weasels his way out of these capture fees too often. He's not going to weasel out of this one.

 **First Scout.** _[disdainful]_ You're a bounty hunter?

 **Harry.** That's right. _[aside]_ The more firmly the scouts have the wrong image of me set in their minds, the longer it will take them to see through the deception.

 _The second scout attaches the travois to his broom and remounts._

 **First Scout.** You two follow him. Drop your rifle on the ground first, Weasley.

 _Harry drops the rifle, and he and Ginny follow the second scout. The first scout picks up Ginny's rifle and rides behind them. As they move into the city, they are escorted by legions of Hit Wizards and broom-riding scouts, a clear sign of how serious Grindelwald is treating this incident._

 _Enter Major Yardley Platt, a green-robed man with long black hair and purple eyes, flanked by two Hit Wizards._

 **Platt.** About time. Who are they?

 **Hit Wizard.** The male says his name is Weasley. Bounty hunter; works for Dumbledore. He claims the female is his prisoner.

 **Platt.** _Was_ his prisoner. _[to Ginny]_ What's your name, thief?

 **Ginny.** Electra Holyhead. And I'm not a thief. Aberforth Dumbledore owes me. He owes me big. I didn't take any more than I had coming.

 _Platt glances at Harry, who shrugs._

 **Harry.** Dumbledore's other dealings aren't any of my business. He said bring her back. I brought her back.

 **Platt.** _[glances at Hedwig]_ And her theft, too, I see. _[to Second Scout]_ Get that droid off your broom. The ground's flat enough here, and I want you on perimeter. Put it with the prisoners. Cuff them, too. They're hardly likely to fall over tree roots out here.

 _Two Hit Wizards approach._

 **Harry.** Wait a minute. Me, too?

 **Platt.** _[raises an eyebrow]_ You got a problem with that, bounty hunter?

 **Harry.** _[with mock anger]_ Yeah, I've got a problem with it. She's the prisoner here, not me.

 **Platt.** For the moment you're both prisoners. So shut up. _[frowns at Harry's face]_ What in the world happened to you, anyway?

 _Harry glares at Platt as the Hit Wizards cuff him and Ginny._

 **Harry.** Ran into some kind of bush while I was chasing her. It itched like hell for a while.

 **Platt.** _[smiles]_ How very inconvenient for you. How fortunate that we have a fully qualified medic back at HQ. He should be able to bring that swelling down in no time. _[glances at the Hit Wizards]_ You disarmed him, of course.

 _The first scout hands Platt Ginny's rifle._

Interesting weapon.

 _A Ministry assault broomship approaches._

Ah. All right, Commander. Let's go.

 _Platt and the Hit Wizards lead Harry and Ginny into the center of Dufftown._

 _Enter Ron, cuffed and carried into the scene by four smugglers, including Borgin._

What do you want?

 **Borgin.** Name's Borgin. We caught this scum snooping around the forest, maybe looking for your prisoners there. I figured you might want to have a talk with him, eh?

 **Platt.** Uncommonly generous of you. You come to this conclusion all by yourself?

 **Borgin.** Just because I don't live in a big flashy city doesn't mean I'm stupid. What, you think we don't know what it means when Ministry Hit Wizards start setting up a temporary garrison?

 **Platt.** You'd best just hope that the garrison is temporary. _[glances at the Hit Wizards]_ Check him for weapons.

 **Borgin.** We already . . .

 _Platt glances at Borgin, and he falls silent._

 _The Hit Wizards frisk Ron and come up empty._

 **Platt.** Put him in the pocket with the others. All right, Borgin, you and your friends can go. If he turns out to be worth anything, I'll see you get a piece of it.

 **Borgin.** Uncommonly generous of you. Can we have our guns back now?

 **Platt.** You can pick them up later at our HQ. Railview Inn, straight across the square. But I'm sure a sophisticated citizen like yourself already knows where it is.

 _Borgin hesitates, glances at the Hit Wizards, and exits with his companions._

Move out.

 _Platt and the Hit Wizards move on with their prisoners Harry, Ron, and Ginny._

 **Ron.** _[aside, to Harry]_ Well, together again, huh?

 **Harry.** _[aside, to Ron]_ I wouldn't miss it. Your friends there seem in a hurry to get away.

 **Ron.** _[aside, to Harry]_ Probably don't want to miss the party, a little something they threw together to celebrate my capture.

 **Harry.** _[aside, to Ron]_ Shame we weren't invited.

 **Ron.** _[aside, to Harry]_ Real shame. You never know, though.

 _As they move into an open area, the Hit Wizards raise their rifles in expectation for an ambush._

 _Harry curses._

 **Harry.** _[aside, to Ron]_ Is Percy here?

 **Ron.** _[frowns]_ He's with Dean, yeah.

 _Harry nods, then purposefully trips over Hedwig._

 **Harry.** _[aside, to Hedwig]_ Hedwig. Call to Percy. Tell him to wait until we're at the archway to attack.

 **Hedwig.** _[beeps and whistles]_

 _Platt pulls Harry to his feet._

 **Platt.** _[scowls]_ What was that?

 **Harry.** He fell over. I think he tripped . . .

 **Platt.** I meant that transmission. What did he say?

 **Harry.** He was probably telling me off for tripping him. How should I know what he said?

 _Platt glares at Harry, then turns back to the Hit Wizards._

 **Platt.** Move out, Commander. Everyone stay alert.

 _Platt turns away._

 **Ron.** _[aside, to Harry]_ I hope you know what you're doing.

 **Harry.** _[aside, to Ron]_ So do I.

 _Exit all._


	52. Battle of the Isle of Drear

**Disclaimer: I am not Timothy Zahn or J.K. Rowling.**

 _As he, Dean and Goldstein watch the Hit Wizards and their prisoners, Percy receives Hedwig's message._

 **Percy.** Oh, my. General Thomas, I have . . .

 **Dean.** Quiet, Percy. _[to Goldstein]_ Did you see what happened, Goldstein?

 **Goldstein.** _[shakes his head]_ Looked like Potter and his droid both fell over. I couldn't tell for sure, too many Hit Wizards in the way.

 **Percy.** General Thomas . . .

 **Dean.** Quiet, Percy. _[to Goldstein]_ Looks like they're okay.

 **Goldstein.** Yeah. Here we go. Let's hope everyone's ready.

 **Dean.** And that Borgin and the others aren't still carrying their rifles.

 **Goldstein.** They aren't. Don't worry. Hit Wizards are always confiscating other people's weapons.

 _Dean and Goldstein draw their rifles._

 **Percy.** General Thomas. I must speak to you. I have a message from Master Harry.

 **Dean.** _[surprised]_ From Harry? What is it?

 **Percy.** Master Harry wants you to hold off the attack. He says you're to wait until the Hit Wizards are at the arch before firing.

 **Goldstein.** _[turns]_ What? That's mad. They outnumber us three to one. We give them any chance at all at cover, and they'll cut us to pieces.

 **Dean.** They're awfully spread out out there. Cover or no cover, they're going to be hard to take out, especially with those brooms on their perimeter.

 _Dean and Goldstein turn their rifles on one another._

 **Goldstein.** It's mad. I'm not going to risk my people that way.

 **Dean.** Harry knows what he's doing. He's an Auror.

 **Goldstein.** _[snorts]_ He's not an Auror now. Didn't Aberforth explain about the hinkypunks?

 **Dean.** Whether he has Auror powers or not, he's still an Auror. Anyway, his life is more on the line here than any of yours. You can always abort and pull back.

 **Goldstein.** _[sarcastic]_ Oh, sure. Except that if we leave any of them alive, they'll seal off the city. And what about that assault broom up there?

 **Dean.** What about it? I still haven't heard how you're planning to take it out.

 **Goldstein.** Well, we sure as hell don't want it on the ground. And that's what will happen if we let the Hit Wizards get to the arch. The assault broom will put down right across the front of it, right between us and them. That, plus the arch itself, will give them all the cover they need to sit back and take us out at their leisure. Anyway, it's too late to clue in the others to any plan changes.

 **Dean.** You don't have to clue them in. No one's supposed to do anything until you trigger the booby-trapped weapons.

 **Goldstein.** _[shakes his head]_ It's too risky.

 _Dean rests his rifle against Goldstein's neck._

 **Dean.** We wait.

 **Goldstein.** _[cold]_ I won't forget this, Thomas.

 **Dean.** I wouldn't want you to. _[aside]_ Oh, Harry. I hope you know what you're doing.

 _Despite his reservations, Goldstein does not signal his people to attack until the Hit Wizards (and their prisoners) are within cover of the archway. As they reach the arch, four of the Hit Wizards explode; the force of the explosion nearly knocks Harry over._

 _As the Hit Wizards move into battle, the assault broom swivels around to face unseen attackers. As they fight, the Ministry forces dump their prisoners beyond the archway. Hedwig, moving through the gunfire, joins them._

 **Ron.** I think we're in trouble, not to mention Dean and the others.

 **Harry.** It's not over yet. Just stick close. How are you at causing distractions?

 **Ron.** Terrific.

 _Ron reveals that he is no longer cuffed._

Trick cuffs.

 _Ron begins to pick the lock on Harry's cuffs._

I hope this thing . . .

 _Ron frees Harry._

Ah. You ready for your distraction?

 **Harry.** Hang on a minute.

 _Harry looks up, watching as the brooms perch near the archway and the assault broom moves downward._

 _Ginny digs her fingernails into Harry's arm._

 **Ginny.** Whatever you're going to do, do it. If the assault broom gets down, you'll never get them out from cover.

 **Harry.** I know. I'm counting on it.

 _The assault broom lands._

 _Back at Aberforth's headquarters, Goldstein curses and rounds on Dean._

 **Goldstein.** Well, there's your Auror for you. You got any other great ideas, Thomas?

 **Dean.** We've just got to give him . . .

 _Goldstein draws his rifle and fires at Dean, knocking him backward. As Dean winces with pain, Goldstein leans over him._

He'll come through. He will. _[aside]_ He's not going to listen. And deep down, I can't blame him. I, Dean Thomas, the professional gambler, have gambled one last time. And I've lost. And now the debt of that gamble has come due.

 _But back in the battle, all is not yet lost. Harry turns to Ron._

 **Harry.** All right, Ron. Go.

 _Ron nods, rises, and knocks two Hit Wizards out. The other two Hit Wizards round on him._

 _Harry turns to Hedwig, the latter still making his way toward the former._

Hedwig. Now.

 _Hedwig's compartment opens, and Harry retrieves his lightwand. Activating the weapon, Harry slashes at the Hit Wizards, saving Ron._

 _[to Ron and Ginny]_ Get behind me.

 _Noticing Harry, some of the Hit Wizards make their way toward Harry. Stripped of the Magic, Harry is unable to fight off the Hit Wizards with his lightwand, but that is not a problem, as the Hit Wizards are not who he is aiming for._

 _Harry turns and slices one of the stone pillars of the archway in half. Then he does the same to the other pillar. As the archway comes crashing down, Ron and Ginny scramble behind Harry. Harry himself just barely manages to leap out of the way as the stone pillars come crashing down on top of the Ministry Hit Wizards._

 _Even without the Magic, Harry manages to save himself, Ron, Ginny, Hedwig, and the others from the Hit Wizards._

 _Exit all._


	53. Escape from the Isle of Drear

**Disclaimer: I am not Timothy Zahn or J.K. Rowling.**

 _After the battle, Goldstein and Aberforth gather in the latter's headquarters on the_ Hog's Head _, where they discuss their recent victory against the Ministry._

 **Aberforth.** _[awed]_ One man.

 **Goldstein.** Well, we helped some.

 **Aberforth.** And without the Magic, too.

 **Goldstein.** _[shrugs]_ That's what Ginny said. Though of course Potter might have lied to her about it.

 **Aberforth.** Unlikely.

 _Outside the_ Hog's Head _, Aberforth notices Harry and Ron helping an injured Dean onto a broom._

Took a shot, did he?

 **Goldstein.** Came close to taking one of mine, too. I thought he'd betrayed us, figured I'd make sure he didn't walk away from it.

 **Aberforth.** In retrospect, it's just as well you didn't.

 _Aberforth and Goldstein look up toward the sky, anxiously worrying about Ministry retribution._

 **Goldstein.** We might still be able to hunt down the other two assault brooms before they get a chance to report. I don't think the headquarters people got any messages away before we took them out.

 **Aberforth.** _[shakes his head]_ No. There's no way to cover up our part in what happened here, not from a man like Grindelwald.

 **Goldstein.** You're probably right. You want me to head back and start the evacuation?

 **Aberforth.** Yes. And take Ginny with you. Make sure she keeps busy, somewhere away from the _Ford Anglia_ and Potter's Firebolt.

 **Goldstein.** Right. See you later.

 _Exit Goldstein._

 _As the broom containing Dean takes off toward the_ Anglia _, Aberforth approaches Harry and Ron, who head for a separate broom._

 **Ron.** Aberforth. I owe you one.

 **Aberforth.** _[nods]_ Are you still going to get the _Lion_ out of impoundment for me?

 **Ron.** I said I would. Where do you want it delivered?

 **Aberforth.** Just leave it in Norfolk. Someone will pick it up. _[to Harry]_ An interesting little trick. Unorthodox, to say the least.

 **Harry.** _[shrugs]_ It worked.

 **Aberforth.** That it did. Likely saving several of my people's lives in the bargain.

 **Harry.** Does that mean you've made your decision?

 **Aberforth.** _[smiles]_ I don't really see as I have much choice anymore. _[to Ron]_ I presume you'll be leaving immediately?

 **Ron.** As soon as we can get Harry's Firebolt rigged for towing. Dean's doing okay, but he's going to need more specialized medical attention than the _Anglia_ can handle.

 **Aberforth.** It could have been worse.

 **Ron.** _[voice hardens]_ A lot worse.

 _Aberforth meets Ron's hard gaze with one of his own._

 **Aberforth.** So could all of it.

 **Ron.** Yeah. Well, so long.

 _Harry and Ron mount the broom._

 **Aberforth.** One other thing. Obviously, we're going to have to pull out of here before the Ministry figures out what's happened. That means a lot of lifting capacity if we're going to do it quickly. You wouldn't happen to have any surplus cargo or stripped-down military broomships lying around I could have, would you?

 **Ron.** We don't have enough cargo capacity for the Wizards' Council's normal business. I think I might have mentioned that to you.

 **Aberforth.** Well, then, a loan, perhaps. A stripped-down selkie cruiser would do nicely.

 **Ron.** I'm sure it would. I'll see what I can do.

 _The broom lifts off._

 _Exit Aberforth._

 _Harry and Ron arrive at the_ Ford Anglia _._ _After settling Dean in on the_ Anglia _and leaving Percy and Hedwig to watch over him, Harry joins Ron in the cockpit of the_ Anglia _._

 **Harry.** Any problems with the tow cable?

 **Ron.** Not so far. The extra weight's not bothering us, anyway. We should be all right.

 **Harry.** Good. You expecting company?

 **Ron.** You never know. Aberforth said there were still a couple of assault brooms and a few racing brooms unaccounted for. One of them might have figured that a last-ditch suicide run was better than having to go back to the Grand Admiral and report.

 **Harry.** Grand Admiral?

 **Ron.** Yeah. That's who seems to be running the show now for the Ministry.

 **Harry.** I thought we'd accounted for all the Grand Admirals.

 **Ron.** Me, too. We must have missed one.

 _Once the_ Anglia _has placed twelve kilometers between them and_ _the hinkypunk-filled forest, Harry's magical powers are returned to him. He sighs with relief._

 **Harry.** I don't suppose you got a name.

 **Ron.** Aberforth wouldn't give it to me. Maybe we can bargain the use of that selkie cruiser he wants for it. _[frowns at Harry]_ You okay?

 **Harry.** I'm fine. I just . . . It's like being able to see again after having been blind.

 **Ron.** _[snorts]_ Yeah, I know how that is.

 **Harry.** I guess you would. I didn't get a chance to say this earlier . . . but thanks for coming after me.

 _Ron waves his hand dismissively._

 **Ron.** No charge. And I didn't get a chance to say it earlier . . . but you look like something the cat dragged in.

 **Harry.** My wonderful disguise. Ginny assures me it will wear off in a few more hours.

 **Ron.** Yeah, Ginny. You and she seemed to be hitting it off pretty well there.

 **Harry.** _[grimaces]_ Don't count on it. A matter of having a common enemy is all. First the forest, then the Ministry. She wants to kill me.

 **Ron.** Any idea why?

 _Harry opens his mouth, then hesitates._

 **Harry.** It's something personal.

 **Ron.** _[glances at Harry oddly]_ Something personal? How personal can a death mark get?

 **Harry.** It's not a death mark. It's something . . . well, personal.

 **Ron.** _[still not understanding]_ Oh.

 _Ron returns his attention to his piloting._

 **Harry.** You know, I never did find out what region this was.

 **Ron.** It's called the Isle of Drear. And I just found out this morning. I think Aberforth must have already decided to abandon the place, even before the battle. He had real tight security around it when Dean and I first got here.

 _Once the_ Anglia _passes the Isle of Drear's gravity well, Ron glances at the navigation computer._

Good. Our course is already programmed in. Let's get out of here.

 **Harry.** Where are we going? London?

 **Ron.** A little side trip first. I want to swing by the Nimbus broom company, see if we can get Dean and your Firebolt fixed up.

 **Harry.** And maybe find a selkie cruiser to borrow for Aberforth?

 **Ron.** Maybe. I mean, Murcus has got a bunch of stripped-down broomships ferrying stuff to the Nimbus region already. No reason why we can't borrow one of them for a couple of days, is there?

 **Harry.** _[sighs]_ Probably not. I suppose London can do without us for a few more days.

 **Ron.** I hope so. But something's about to happen back there . . . if it hasn't happened already.

 **Harry.** Maybe we shouldn't bother with Nimbus, then. Dean's hurting, but he's not in any danger.

 **Ron.** _[shakes his head]_ No. I want to get him taken care of. And you, buddy, need some downtime, too. I just wanted you to know that when we hit London, we're going to hit it running. So enjoy Nimbus while you can. It will probably be the last peace and quiet you'll get for a while.

 _Exit the_ Anglia _, into Apparition._


	54. Aberforth's Betrayal Uncovered

**Disclaimer: I am not Timothy Zahn or J.K. Rowling.**

Nurmengard _arrives in the Nimbus region, one of many Ministry cruisers which make up Grand Admiral Grindelwald's task force. Within the task force is the old broom with the invisibility cloak._

 _As he and Grindelwald study the scene from the bridge, c_ _ommunications officer Credence Barebone addresses Ogden._

 **Credence.** The _Slytherin_ has just reported in, Captain. They confirm battle ready and request order update.

 **Ogden.** Inform Captain Mortlake that there have been no changes.

 **Grindelwald.** Status, Captain?

 **Ogden.** All cruisers are on line, sir. The broom's invisibility cloak has been checked out and primed. All Ministry brooms are prepped and manned. I think we're ready.

 **Grindelwald.** _[nods]_ Excellent. What word from the Isle of Drear?

 **Ogden.** I don't know, Admiral. _[to Credence]_ Lieutenant. The last report from the Isle of Drear landing force?

 **Credence.** It was a routine report, sir. Time log: fourteen hours, ten minutes ago.

 **Grindelwald.** _[cold]_ Fourteen hours? I left orders for them to report every twelve.

 **Credence.** Yes, Admiral. I have that order logged, right here on their file. They must have . . .

 _Credence glances helplessly at Ogden._

 **Ogden.** _[to Grindelwald]_ Perhaps they're having trouble with their transmitter.

 **Grindelwald.** No. They've been taken. Potter was indeed there.

 **Ogden.** _[shakes his head]_ I can't believe that, sir. Potter couldn't have taken all of them, not with all those hinkypunks blocking his Auror power.

 **Grindelwald.** I agree. Obviously, he had help.

 **Ogden.** Dumbledore?

 **Grindelwald.** Who else was there? So much for his protestations of neutrality.

 **Ogden.** Perhaps we should send someone to investigate. We could probably spare a Ministry broomship, maybe even the Bluebottle.

 **Grindelwald.** _[sighs]_ No. The Nimbus operation is our primary concern at the moment. And battles have been lost before on the presence or absence of a single broom. Dumbledore and his betrayal will keep for later. _[to Credence]_ Signal the broom. Have them activate the Cloak of Invisibility.

 **Credence.** Yes, sir.

 _The crewmembers of the battered broom activate the Cloak of Invisibility._

Invisibility cloak on, Admiral.

 **Grindelwald.** _[nods]_ Order them to proceed.

 **Credence.** Yes, sir.

 _The broom moves past_ Nurmengard _, toward Nimbus, and leaps into lightspeed._

 **Grindelwald.** Time mark.

 **Derrick.** Time marked.

 **Grindelwald.** _[to Ogden]_ Is my flagship ready, Captain?

 **Ogden.** _Nurmengard_ is fully at your command, Admiral.

 **Grindelwald.** Good. We follow the broom in exactly six hours, twenty minutes. I want a final check from all broomships. And I want you to remind them one last time that our task is only to engage and pin down the region's defenses. There are to be no special heroics or risks taken. Make that clearly understood, Captain. We're here to gain brooms, not lose them.

 **Ogden.** Yes, sir.

 _Ogden steps forward._

 **Grindelwald.** And Captain?

 **Ogden.** Yes, Admiral?

 **Grindelwald.** _[smiles]_ Remind them, too, that our final victory over the Army begins here.

 _Exit all._


	55. The Battle Begins

**Disclaimer: I am not Timothy Zahn or J.K. Rowling.**

 _Enter Neville and Arnold Peasegood, on the broomship_ Obliviate _._

 _Peasegood glares bitterly at Neville._

 **Peasegood.** You Firebolt hotshots. You've really got it made. You know that?

 _Neville shrugs, trying to ignore Peasegood._

 **Neville.** Yeah, well, we're stuck out here, too.

 **Peasegood.** _[snorts]_ Yeah. Big sacrifice. You lounge around my broom like overpriced trampers for a couple of days, then flit around for two hours while I try to dodge bulk broomships and get this thing into a docking station designed for scavenger pickers. And then you pull your broomsticks back inside and go back to lounging again. Doesn't exactly qualify as earning your pay, in my book.

 **Neville.** _[aside]_ Don't respond. It's considered bad form to mouth back at senior officers, after all . . . even senior officers who have long since passed their prime. For probably the first time since I was given command of Rogue Squadron, I suddenly regret having passed up all the rest of the promotions I've been offered. A higher rank would at least entitle me to snarl back a little. _[sighs]_ Then again, I guess I can see Peasegood's position. If our roles were reversed, I'm not sure I would do much better.

 _The battered Ministry broom appears._

 _Neville checks the sensors, but do to the Cloak of Invisibility they detect nothing, which merely serves to increase Neville's suspicions._

 _Peasegood steps forward, his irritability suddenly gone._

 **Peasegood.** Trouble?

 _Noticing this, Neville looks over at Peasegood with grudging respect, thinking he might have judged him too harshly._

 **Neville.** That incoming broom. There's something about it that doesn't feel right.

 **Peasegood.** I don't see anything.

 **Neville.** Me, either. There's just something . . . blast.

 **Peasegood.** What?

 **Neville.** Control won't let me in. Too much traffic on the circuits already, they say.

 **Peasegood.** Allow me.

 _Peasegood manages what Neville could not on his own console._

There we go. I've got a tap into their records computer. Little trick you never learn flitting around in a Firebolt. Let's see now . . .shuttle _Silver Arrow_ , out of West Ham. They were jumped by pirates, got their main drive damaged in the fight, and had to dump their cargo to get away. They're hoping to get some repair work done. Nimbus Control's basically told them to get in line.

 **Neville.** I thought all this relief shipping had more or less taken over the whole place.

 **Peasegood.** _[shrugs]_ Theoretically. In practice . . . well, the Nimbus are easy enough to talk into bending that kind of rule. You just have to know how to phrase the request.

 _Neville nods._

 _Neville takes his transceiver._

 **Neville.** _[into transceiver]_ Rogue Squadron, this is Rogue Leader. Everyone to your brooms.

 **Peasegood.** You still think there's trouble?

 **Neville.** _[grimaces]_ Probably not. But it won't hurt to be ready. Anyway, I can't have my pilots sitting around drinking tea all day.

 _Neville departs from the bridge and joins the rest of Rogue Squadron (i.e. Rolf Scamander, Ernie Macmillan, Lee Jordan, Seamus Finnigan, Eldritch Diggory, and Aidan Kiely) in their brooms and departed from the_ Obliviate _._

Spread out formation. Let's swing by and take a nice, casual little look.

 _As the Rogues do as Neville ordered, the battered broom explodes._

Emergency. Broom explosion near orbit-dock V-475. Send rescue team.

 _Within the remains of the broom, a legion of Ministry brooms appear and spread out._

Pull up. Come around and reform. S-foils in attack position.

 _As Rogue Squadron moves into action, the Battle of Nimbus begins._


	56. Mole Miners

**Disclaimer: I am not Timothy Zahn or J.K. Rowling.**

 _Enter the_ Ford Anglia _, arriving on the Battle of Nimbus._

 _Ron notices the broom explosion._

 **Ron.** Harry. Got a broom explosion. I'm going to go check it out.

 _As the_ Anglia _moves forward, the Ministry brooms, as well as the Ministry cruiser_ Nurmengard _, appear._

 _Harry returns to the cockpit._

 **Harry.** What's going on?

 **Ron.** We just walked into a Ministry attack. Got a Ministry cruiser behind us. There's another one over to starboard, looks like some other brooms with them.

 **Harry.** They've got the region bottled up. I make it five Ministry cruisers and something over twenty smaller broomships.

 **Ron.** At least we know now why they hit Avalon and the others. They wanted to pull enough brooms here to make an attack worth their while.

 **Neville's Voice.** _[over the transmitter]_ Emergency. Ministry brooms in orbit-dock area. All brooms to battle stations.

 **Harry.** That sounded like Neville. _[into transmitter]_ Neville? That you?

 **Neville's Voice.** _[over the transmitter]_ Harry? We've got trouble here - at least forty Ministry brooms and fifty truncated-cone-shaped things I've never seen before . . . I hope you've brought a couple wings of brooms with you. We're going to be a little pressed here.

 **Harry.** _[into the transmitter]_ I'm afraid it's just Ron and me and the _Anglia_. But we're on our way.

 **Neville's Voice.** _[over the transmitter]_ Make it fast.

 **Harry.** _[to Ron]_ Is there any way to get me into my Firebolt?

 **Ron.** _[shakes his head]_ Not fast enough. We're going to have to drop it here and go in alone.

 _Harry nods and rises._

 **Harry.** I'd better make sure Dean and the droids are strapped in and then get up into the gun well.

 **Ron.** Take the top one.

 _As Harry heads over to the gun well and Ron ponders about the identity of the Ministry's mysterious new brooms, Grindelwald and Ogden stand on the bridge of_ Nurmengard _, watching the battle._

 **Ogden.** All brooms, commence attack. Full engagement. Maintain position and status. _[to Grindelwald]_ All brooms report engaged, sir.

 _Grindelwald, having noticed the_ Anglia _, does not respond._

Admiral?

 **Grindelwald.** That was them, Captain. That car straight ahead. That was the _Ford Anglia_. And it was towing an Firebolt broomstick behind it.

 _Ogden frowns out the viewport, where he too sees the_ Anglia _._

 **Ogden.** Yes, sir. Cloak Leader reports a successful breakout, and that the command section of the broom is making its escape to the periphery. They're encountering some resistance from escort vehicles and a squadron of Firebolts. But the general response has so far been weak and diffuse.

 **Grindelwald.** _[sighs]_ That will change. Remind him not to push his envelope too far, or to waste excessive time in choosing his targets. Also that the spacetrooper mole miners should concentrate on selkie cruisers. They're likely to have the largest number of defenders aboard. And inform him that the _Ford Anglia_ is on its way in.

 **Ogden.** Yes, sir. _[glances over at Grindelwald]_ You don't think . . . Potter?

 **Grindelwald.** We'll know soon. And if so, Aberforth Dumbledore will have a great deal to answer for, a great deal.

 _Outside_ Nurmengard _, Rogue Squadron engages the Ministry brooms. Commander Longbottom contacts Rogue Five Gondoline Oliphant, as her Firebolt is nicked by a Ministry broom._

 **Neville.** _[into transmitter]_ Watch it, Rogue Five. We've picked up a tail.

 **Gondoline.** I noticed. Pincer?

 **Neville.** On my mark.

 _As a selkie cruiser moves forward, Neville and Gondoline move underneath it._

Now.

 _As a Ministry broom follows them, Neville and Gondoline split up. When the Ministry broom hesitates about which Firebolt to go after, the Rogues take advantage of this. Gondoline fires on the broom. It explodes._

Nice shooting.

 _In the middle of their fight, Neville and Gondoline suddenly notice they have separated themselves from the battle._

 **Gondoline.** We seem to be out of it, Rogue Leader.

 **Neville.** Easy enough to fix.

 _Neville and Gondoline fly back into the main battle area. Noticing one of the mole miners, Neville pauses._

Hang on a minute. I want to check this out.

 _As Neville moves toward the mole miner, the selkie cruiser fires on his Firebolt, which elicits a cry of shock from Gondoline._

Stay back. I'm hit, but not bad.

 **Gondoline.** They fired on you.

 **Neville.** Yeah, I know. _[aside]_ Why did they fire on me? Unless . . . _[to Gondoline]_ Rogue Five, I need a fast sensor scan. Where are the rest of those cone things?

 **Gondoline.** Hang on, I'll check. Scope shows . . . I don't find more than about fifteen of them. Nearest one's ten kilometers away, bearing one-one-eight mark four.

 **Neville.** _[aside] Fifty_ flew out of that wrecked broom, not fifteen. Where are the others? Let's take a look.

 _Neville notices a mole miner, escorted by Ministry brooms, headed for the selkie cruiser._

 _[to Gondoline]_ Let's see if we can take them before they notice us.

 _However, as the two Rogues approach, the Ministry brooms turn on them._

Take the two on the right, Rogue Five. I'll take the others.

 **Gondoline.** Copy.

 _Neville takes a hit from the Ministry brooms, but his enemies are driven off by the_ Anglia _, fired by Harry and Ron._

 **Harry.** All clear, Neville. You damaged?

 **Neville.** I'm fine, Harry. Thanks.

 **Ron.** Look. There it goes, over by the broomship. It's one of Dean's mole miners, all right.

 **Harry.** I see it. What's it doing out here?

 **Neville.** I saw one stuck onto the selkie cruiser back there. Looks like this one's trying to do the same thing. I don't know why.

 **Ron.** Whatever it's doing, let's stop it.

 **Neville.** Right.

 _As Harry, Ron, and Neville watch, one of the mole miners attaches itself to a selkie cruiser, eliciting a blast of light._

 **Harry.** What was that?

 **Neville.** I don't know. It looked too bright for laser fire.

 **Ron.** It was a plasma jet. Right on top of the bridge emergency escape hatch. That's what they wanted the mole miners for. They're using them to burn through the hulls . . . _[curses]_ Harry. We got it backwards. They're not here to wreck the fleet. They're here to steal it.

 **Harry.** _[aside]_ And suddenly all the pieces fall into place. The mole miners, the undermanned and underdefended selkie cruisers we were forced to press into shipping service, the Ministry effort is making very little effort . . . and a selkie cruiser just fired on Neville's Firebolt. _[to Ron]_ We've got to stop them.

 **Ron.** Good thinking. How?

 **Harry.** Is there any way we can get aboard them ourselves? Dean said the mole miners were two-man brooms. The Ministry can't possibly have packed more than four or five Hit Wizards in each one of them.

 **Neville.** The way those broomships are manned at the moment, four Hit Wizards would be plenty.

 **Harry.** Yes, but I could take them.

 **Ron.** On all fifty brooms? Besides, you blast a hatch open to vacuum and you'll have pressure bulkheads closing all over the broom. Take you forever to even get to the bridge.

 **Harry.** _[sighs]_ Then we have to disable them. Knock out their engines or control systems or something. If they get out to the perimeter and those Ministry cruisers, we'll never see them again.

 **Ron.** Oh, we'll see them again, pointed straight back at us. You're right. Disabling as many as we can is our best shot. We're never going to stop all fifty, though.

 **Neville.** We don't have fifty to stop, at least not yet. There are still twelve mole miners that haven't attached themselves to brooms.

 **Ron.** Good. Let's take them out first. You got vectors on them?

 **Neville.** Feeding your computer now.

 **Ron.** Okay, okay. Here we go.

 _The_ Anglia _moves in that direction._

Harry. Get on the comm and tell Nimbus Control what's happening. Tell them not to let any brooms out of the orbit-dock area.

 **Harry.** Right.

 _Harry moves to contact Nimbus Control, then frowns._

Ron? You all right?

 **Ron.** Huh? Sure. Why?

 **Harry.** I don't know. You seemed to change.

 **Ron.** I had half a grip on some idea. But it's gone now. Come on. Make that call. I want you back on the quads when we get there.

 _Harry contacts Nimbus Control and informs them of the problem._

 **Harry.** _[to Ron and Neville]_ They thank us for the information. But they say they don't have anything to spare at the moment to help us.

 **Ron.** Probably don't. Okay, I see two Ministry brooms running escort. Neville, you and Rogue Five take them out while Harry and I hit the mole miner.

 **Neville.** Got it.

 _Neville and Gondoline move off to meet the Ministry brooms._

 **Ron.** Harry. Try to blow it apart instead of disintegrating it. Let's see how many people the Ministry has got stuffed inside.

 **Harry.** Got it.

 _Focusing in on one of the mole miners, Harry fires. As he does so, a Hit Wizard suddenly exits the mole miner._

What . . . ?

 **Ron.** It's a spacetrooper, a Hit Wizard in zero-gee armor. Hang on.

 _Ron swerves out of the way, but not before the Hit Wizard fires on them._

 **Neville.** Ron, Harry. Are you all right?

 **Ron.** Yeah, for now. You get the Ministry brooms?

 **Neville.** Yes. I think the mole miner's still underway, though.

 **Ron.** Well, then, blast it. Nothing cute. Just blow it apart. But watch out for that spacetrooper. He's using miniature proton torpedoes or something. I'm trying to draw him away. I don't know if he'll fall for it.

 **Neville.** He's not. He's staying right on top of the mole miner. They're heading for a passenger liner. It looks like they'll make it, too.

 **Ron.** _[curses]_ Probably got a few regular Hit Wizard buddies still in there. All right, I guess we do this the hard way. _[to Harry]_ Hang on, Harry. We're going to ram him.

 **Harry.** We're what?

 _Ron drives the_ Anglia _toward the Hit Wizard and the mole miner._

 **Ron.** Get ready.

 _At the last second, Ron drops out of the Hit Wizard's line of fire._

Neville. Stop.

 _Neville fires at the mole miner, and it explodes._

Good shot. There you go, hotshot. Enjoy your view of the battle.

 **Harry.** _[with realization]_ He was listening in on our channel. You just wanted to decoy him into moving away from the mole miner.

 **Ron.** You got it. I figured he'd tap in. Hit Wizards always do when they can . . .

 _Harry senses something's wrong._

 **Harry.** What is it?

 **Ron.** I don't know. There's something about this whole thing that keeps poking at me, but I can't figure out what it is. Never mind. Our hotshot spacetrooper will keep for now. Let's go hit some more mole miners.

 _Exit all._


	57. Grindelwald and Ogden

**Disclaimer: I am not Timothy Zahn or J.K. Rowling.**

 _Amidst the battle, Ogden and Grindelwald stand on the bridge of the Ministry cruiser_ Nurmengard _._

 **Ogden.** _[aside]_ It's just as well that we're only here to keep the enemy tied up. The Nimbus and their Council allies are putting up one terrific fight. _[to Derrick]_ Get that Shield Charm back up.

 **Grindelwald.** Starboard turbolasers: focus all fire on the assault broomship at thirty-two mark forty. Concentrate on the starboard side of the broom only.

Nurmengard _'s gun crews do as Grindelwald has ordered._

Excellent. Starboard Summoning crews: lock on and bring it in close. Try to keep it between the damaged shields and the enemy. And be sure to keep its starboard side facing toward us. The port side may still have active weapons and a crew to use them.

 _Using the Summoning Charm,_ Nurmengard _brings the Council assault broom forward._

 **Ogden.** Broom squadron four, keep after that Starsweeper XII group. Port Impediment Charm: keep up the pressure on that command center. _[to Grindelwald]_ Any specific orders, Admiral?

 **Grindelwald.** _[shakes his head]_ No, the battle seems to be progressing as planned. What word from Cloak Leader?

 _Ogden checks the display._

 **Ogden.** The Ministry brooms are still engaging the various escort brooms. Forty-three of the mole miners have successfully attached to target cruisers. Of those, thirty-nine are secure and making for the perimeter. Four are still encountering internal resistance, though they anticipate a quick victory.

 **Grindelwald.** And the other eight?

 **Ogden.** They've been destroyed, including two of those with a spacetrooper aboard. One of those spacetroopers is failing to respond to comm, presumably killed with his craft. The other is still functional. Cloak Leader has ordered him to join the attack on the escort brooms.

 **Grindelwald.** Countermand that. I'm quite aware that Hit Wizards have infinite confidence in themselves, but that sort of deep-space combat is not what spacetrooper suits were designed for. Have Cloak Leader detail a Ministry broom to bring him out. And also inform him that his wing is to begin pulling back to the perimeter.

 **Ogden.** _[frowns]_ You mean now, sir?

 **Grindelwald.** Certainly, now. The first of our new brooms will begin arriving within fifteen minutes. As soon as they're all with us, the task force will be withdrawing.

 **Ogden.** But . . .

 **Grindelwald.** The DA forces within the perimeter are of no further concern to us, Captain. The captured brooms are on their way. With or without Ministry broom cover, there's nothing the DA can do to stop them.

 _Exit all._


	58. The Battle of Nimbus

**Disclaimer: I am not Timothy Zahn or J.K. Rowling.**

 _Back in the heat of the Nimbus battle, Rogue Squadron and the_ Ford Anglia _engage Ministry forces. Harry and Ron struggle to destroy the mole miners, to no avail._

 **Ron.** Anything?

 **Harry.** Doesn't look like it. There's just too much armor over the coolant-feeder lines.

 **Ron.** This isn't getting us anywhere. There's got to be some way to take out a capital broomship.

 **Neville.** That's what other capital broomships are for. But you're right. This isn't working.

 **Ron.** _[into the transmitter]_ Hedwig. You still on line back there?

 **Hedwig.** _[beeps and whistles]_

 **Ron.** Go through your schematics again. See if you can find us another weak point.

 **Hedwig.** _[beeps and whistles]_

 **Harry.** He's not going to find anything better, Ron. I don't think we've got any choice left. I'm going to have to go topside and use my lightwand on it.

 **Ron.** That's mental, and you know it. Without a proper pressure suit, and with engine coolant spraying all over you if it works . . .

 **Neville.** How about using one of the droids?

 **Harry.** Neither of them can do it. Hedwig hasn't got the manipulative ability. And I wouldn't trust Percy with a weapon, especially not with all the high-acceleration maneuvers we're making.

 **Ron.** What we need is a remote manipulator arm, something that Harry could use inside while . . . _[into the transmitter]_ Dean. Dean! Get up here.

 **Harry.** I've got him strapped in.

 **Ron.** Well, go unstrap him and get him up here. Now.

 **Harry.** Right.

 _Harry heads off to retrieve Dean._

 **Neville.** What is it?

 **Ron.** We were there on Cornwall when the Ministry stole these mole miners from Dean. We had to reroute our communications through some jamming.

 **Neville.** Okay. So?

 **Ron.** So why were they jamming us? To keep us from calling for help? From whom? They're not jamming us here, you notice.

 **Neville.** _[testy]_ I give up. Why?

 **Ron.** Because they had to. Because . . .

 _Enter Dean._

 **Dean.** Because most of the mole miners on Cornwall were running on radio remote.

 _Ron turns to face Dean._

 **Ron.** You heard all that?

 _Dean sits beside Ron._

 **Dean.** Every part that mattered. I could kick myself for not seeing it long ago.

 **Ron.** Me, too. You remember any of the command codes?

 **Dean.** Most of them. What do you need?

 **Ron.** We don't have time for anything fancy. The mole miners are still attached to the brooms. Just start 'em all running.

 **Dean.** _[surprised]_ Start them running?

 **Ron.** You got it. All of them are going to be near a bridge or control wing. If they can burn through enough equipment and wiring, it should knock out the whole lot of them.

 **Dean.** You're the boss. I just hope you know what you're doing. Ready?

 **Ron.** Do it.

 _Dean keys in the code. The mole miner cuts completely through the selkie cruiser, and it erupts in flame._

 **Dean.** It's cut all the way through.

 _The Ministry brooms try to assist, but it is too late to prevent it from exploding._

 **Neville.** It's working. Look. It's working.

 _All the selkie cruisers with mole miners attached to them explode, keeping them out of the hands of the Ministry. The Battle of Nimbus becomes a Council victory, but at a great cost._

 _As far off on_ Nurmengard _Grindelwald and Ogden recognize their defeat, each take a moment before responding._

 **Grindelwald.** _[to Ogden]_ Have all the remaining Cloak Force brooms returned to our ships, Captain?

 **Ogden.** Yes, sir.

 **Grindelwald.** _[nods]_ Then order the task force to begin its withdrawal.

 **Ogden.** Withdrawal?

 **Grindelwald.** _[smiles]_ You were expecting, perhaps, that I'd order an all-out attack? That I would seek to cover our defeat in a frenzy of false and futile heroics?

 **Ogden.** Of course not.

 **Grindelwald.** We haven't been defeated, Captain, merely slowed down a bit. We have Horcrux, and we have the treasures of the Dark Lord's storehouse. Nimbus was to be merely a preliminary to the campaign, not the campaign itself. As long as we have the Horcrux Cave, our ultimate victory is still assured.

 _Grindelwald looks out the viewport._

We've lost this particular prize, Captain. But that's all we've lost. I will not waste brooms and men trying to change that which cannot be changed. There will be many more opportunities to obtain the brooms we need. Carry out your orders.

 **Ogden.** Yes, Admiral.

 _Ogden sighs with relief, as he carries out Grindelwald's order._

 _[aside]_ So there will not be an explosion, after all. I should have known. Grindelwald is not merely a soldier, like so many others I've served with. He is, instead, a true warrior with his eye set on the final goal and not on his own personal glory. Once again, I wonder what the Battle of the Forbidden Forest might have been like had Grindelwald been in command, instead Snape and the Dark Lord.

 _Exit all._


	59. Epilogue

**Disclaimer: I am not Timothy Zahn or J.K. Rowling.**

 _On board the_ Obliviate _, Harry, Ron, Neville, and Peasegood discuss their pyrrhic victory._

 **Peasegood.** Not exactly what you'd call a resounding victory. It's going to take a couple months' work just to rewire all the control circuits.

 **Ron.** Would you rather the Ministry have gotten it whole?

 **Peasegood.** Not at all. You did what you had to. And I'd say that even if my own neck hadn't been on the line. I'm just saying what others will say: that destroying all these brooms in order to save them was not exactly the optimal solution.

 _Ron exchanges looks with Harry._

 **Ron.** You sound like Senator Scrimgeour.

 **Peasegood.** _[nods]_ Exactly.

 **Harry.** Well, fortunately, Scrimgeour's only one voice.

 **Ron.** Yeah, but it's a loud one.

 **Neville.** And one that a lot of people are starting to listen to . . . including important military people.

 **Peasegood.** He'll find some way to parlay this incident into his own political gain. You just watch him.

 _A transmission comes through from Devlin Whitehorn of Nimbus Control._

 _[into transmitter]_ Peasegood here.

 **Whitehorn's Voice.** _[over transmitter]_ Control communications. We have an incoming call from London for Captain Weasley. Is he with you?

 **Ron.** _[into transmitter]_ Right here. Go ahead.

 **Hermione's Voice.** Ron? It's Hermione.

 **Ron.** _[grins]_ Hermione. _[frowns]_ Wait a minute. What are you doing back in London?

 **Hermione's Voice.** I think I've taken care of our other problem . . . at least for the moment.

 _Harry and Ron exchange looks._

 **Ron.** You think?

 **Hermione's Voice.** Look, that's not important right now. What's important is that you get back here right away.

 **Ron.** _[wary]_ What's wrong?

 **Hermione's Voice.** Admiral Murcus has been arrested and removed from command . . . on charges of treason.

 _Silence falls at these words, and Ron exchanges looks with Harry, Neville, and Peasegood, all of whom seem just as horrified as he._

 **Ron.** _[grim]_ I'll be there as soon as I can. Harry's here, too. You want me to bring him?

 **Hermione's Voice.** Yes, if he can manage it. Murcus is going to need all the friends he can get.

 **Ron.** Okay. Call me in the _Anglia_ if there's any more news. We're heading over there right now.

 **Hermione's Voice.** I'll see you soon. I love you, Ron.

 **Ron.** Me, too.

 _Ron breaks the connection and turns back to Harry, Neville, and Peasegood._

Well, there goes the hammer. You coming, Harry?

 **Harry.** _[turns to Neville]_ Have your people had a chance to do anything with my Firebolt yet?

 **Neville.** _[shakes his head]_ Not yet. But it's just been officially bumped to the top of the priority list. We'll have it ready to fly in two hours, even if I have to take the motivators out of my own broom to do it.

 _Harry nods, then turns back to Ron._

 **Harry.** I'll fly into London on my own, then. Let me just come with you and get Hedwig off the _Anglia_.

 **Ron.** Right. Come on.

 _Ron and Harry set off._

 **Peasegood.** Good luck.

 _Exit Peasegood and Neville._

 **Harry.** We could be on the edge of a civil war here.

 **Ron.** Yeah, well, we're not going to let that happen. We haven't gone through a war and back just to watch some overambitious Gryffindor wreck it.

 **Harry.** How are we going to stop him?

 **Ron.** _[grimaces]_ We'll think of something.

 _Exit all._


End file.
